“Thank you, ma’am.”
In Room A-13, Detective Carriage saw a slightly overweight, maternal-looking woman with salt-and-pepper hair and a kind face standing near the teacher’s desk. She wore a green cotton dress, hitting her about mid-calf, and thick, rubber-soled shoes serving more for comfort than style. She looked like the kind of teacher every fourth grader would love to have.
“Good morning, ma’am. Are you Mrs. Wall?”
“Yes, I am. You must be Detective Carriage. What can I do for you?”
“I need some information on a student you used to have in your classroom and her best friend. The student is Alexis Murdock, and her friend is Mattie Sturkey. Do you remember them?”
She smiled as she responded, “Alexis was only in my classroom for a couple of months, but I remember her well. She’s not the kind of student you forget. Have you seen her? Is she okay?”
“No, I haven’t seen her, but I have it on good authority she’s fine, ma’am. No need to worry. Can you tell me about her?”
“Alexis was the kind of student that makes me love to teach. So inquisitive, she always had to know why and how things worked. Very kind and loving, as well. She enjoyed helping the other students, and was always so well mannered.”
“What about her friend, Mattie? Is she still in your class?”
“I don’t have a student named Mattie. I never have that I can recall.”
“Well, this little girl was apparently Alexis’ best friend. She sat right next to her in class.”
“Alexis sat right here.” She walked over to a desk in the front row nearest the window and touched it. “There were boys sitting nearest her. As for her best friend, she didn’t seem to have one. Everyone liked Alexis, but no one really got close to her.”
“Mattie was deaf. Did you have any deaf students in your class?”
“No, I haven’t had a child with a hearing problem for a couple of years now. But Alexis did work with the speech teacher every week. You may want to talk to her.”
“Did Alexis have a speech problem?”
“No, she just volunteered to work with her, and since she was such a good student, I let her leave the classroom several times a week to help with the other students.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate all your help.”
“My pleasure. I hope everything is going to be okay for Alexis. If you see her, please tell her hello.”
“I’ll do that, ma’am. Where’s the speech teacher’s classroom?”
“It’s two buildings over.” She pointed towards a building that would take him even further away from the parking lot in the torrential rain. “Just a second – let me call to see if Ms. Bilby is in her room before you walk all the way over there.”
“One more thing.” Detective Carriage stopped and turned. “Did you ever meet her father?”
“Yes, a couple of times, actually. He came to our first parent-teacher conference — a very pleasant man and extremely interested in her progress. He appeared to be very good about follow-up with homework and assigned projects. Mr. Murdock went on a field trip with us once, and he proved to be a tremendous help, very patient with the children. A little boy in his group had ADD and Mr. Murdock was gentle, yet firm, with him. The little boy adored him and responded well. It made the trip much more pleasant for all of us. Other than that, I couldn’t tell you much. I know the family, of course. You can’t live in Atlanta and not know the Murdocks.”
“What about his girlfriend, Peggy Smith? Did you meet her?”
“No. I don’t recall Mr. Murdock or Alexis ever mentioning a girlfriend.”
“Thanks again, ma’am.” He followed her directions to see the speech teacher, hitting only one section where he had to sprint to avoid the downpour.
Ms. Bilby was waiting for him when he arrived. “Hi Detective, how can I help you?”
“I need some information on Alexis Murdock. Do you remember her?”
“Very well. She helped me a lot. She would come to my class a couple of times a week to work with the students. Alexis was especially interested in helping the ones with hearing problems.”
“Do you know a student named Mattie Sturkey?”
“I have a first grader named Mattie. In fact, Alexis tutored her more than the others. But her last name isn’t Sturkey.”
“Could it be a family name or stepparent’s name do you think? I know sometimes these children use a different name at home than they use at school.”
“If it is, there’s no indication of it in her file. We’re doing some more testing on her next week, so I just went through her file and the name ‘Sturkey’ isn’t in there anywhere. I pay very close attention to the family history because I’m always looking for anyone who may be able to communicate with the student. It’s an odd name, so I’m sure I would’ve noticed it.”
“Do you know if Alexis spent time with Mattie outside your classroom?”
“That’s not likely, since Mattie is bused in from another school to work with me. They don’t have the resources in her school. About seventy percent of my students come from other schools.”
Detective Carriage walked over to a large, pink playhouse with lots of pink accessories. “You have quite a collection here,” he commented.
“Yes, the little girls love the Barbie’s. Mattie and Alexis spent a lot of time there. It provided a comfortable environment for both of them. They worked hard at communicating with the dolls.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me about Alexis?”
“Well, I don’t want to diminish her good intentions, because she really liked helping the students, but I think her primary goal was to learn sign language. She’d spend recesses and lunches with me, sometimes helping me with things in the classroom. In exchange, I would teach her something new each time. She learned a lot from Mattie, too. Although she never said, I think she knew someone else with a hearing problem.”
“Maybe she just wanted to learn to sign so she could talk to Mattie and the other students,” he said.
“I don’t think so because when she came to me to help out, she wanted to make sure I knew how to sign before she volunteered. We have a lot of students with speech problems, the majority of which are not due to lack of hearing, but Alexis only wanted to work with the hearing impaired. I’m quite certain she knew someone who was deaf.”
“Thank you, ma’am, you’ve been a big help.” He handed her his card. “If you come up with anything else you think I should know, please give me a call.”
Detective Carriage hurried to his car through the pouring rain. He had cover for most of the way, but as he approached the parking lot he had about sixty feet without protection. By the time he reached his car, he looked like he’d been for a swim. He drove back to the station to dry out, assess the information he had gathered, and call Attorney Brown to share it with her.
10
A frazzled Elaine handed Sabre a stack of pink slips as she walked into her office. “It’s not even noon yet. What’s going on?” Sabre asked, as she thumbed through the slips. “There must be forty messages here.”
“Forty-two to be exact,” Elaine replied. “Twenty-two are from Crazy Carla; that’s five more than she’s ever done before, and she did it all before noon. There are seven more from the facility where Carla lives, three from Detective Carriage, and the rest are from people who seem to have something else to do with their time besides call you. I’d suggest you call and check on Carla first. She seems to be having a pretty bad day. They want you to come over there and see if you can calm her down.”
“Thanks, Elaine. I’ll call right away. Did Detective Carriage leave any details?”
“No, he just thought you’d be very interested to hear what he found out.”
Sabre called Carla, but no one could get her to take the phone. Phyliss, Carla’s caseworker, pleaded with Sabre to come over and talk to her in person.
Sabre called Bob’s cell. When he saw her name come up on his caller ID
he answered, “Hi, honey. What’s up?”
“I was trying to catch you before you left court so you didn’t drive over here. I won’t be able to do lunch. I need to go see Carla. She’s been flipping out all morning and they need my help with her.”
“Too late. I’m just around the corner from your office, but I don’t need to eat. Would you like some company?”
“I’d love it. Thanks.”
“I’m pulling up at your back door right now. I’ll even drive. Come on out.” Bob took a final drag off his cigarette and put it out before Sabre got in the car.
“I really appreciate your going with me.” Sabre sighed as she got into Bob’s car. “You’ve met Carla, haven’t you?”
“Yeah, I went with you about a year ago when you dropped something off for her; I can’t remember what. She acted pretty normal that day, though.”
“Carla has been in this assisted living facility for about two years now. She doesn’t qualify for hospital care, and physically she’s very capable of caring for herself. Most of the time she functions just fine, but something set her off this morning and no one can figure out what. You know, the majority of the time she acts just fine, but sometimes reality is a stretch for her. Her therapist says she’s improving.”
“I don’t put much stock in therapy, as you well know. If I ever end up in the loony bin, make sure they pump me full of good drugs so at least I think I’m happy,” Bob said.
Phyliss met Sabre at the door. Together they walked to Carla’s room. “Carla had breakfast this morning in the dining area and everything seemed okay. In fact, she seemed to be having a better than usual day. She was sitting at a table in the back of the room. All of a sudden she jumped up, knocked over her water glass, and ran across the room. She bumped into a table and almost fell down. People scurried out of her way, but she ran into a woman and her tray went flying. Carla darted out the door and looked up and down the hallway. She flung doors open and looked in rooms as if she were trying to find someone. Then she went back to her room and started searching through her drawers.” Phyliss stopped speaking just before they reached Carla’s room. “Here we are,” she said. Before she opened the door she added, “The doctor gave her a sedative, so she’s calmer now.”
Sabre and Bob followed her into Carla’s room, where they saw an attendant sitting in a chair at the foot of her bed and Carla on her twin bed in a fetal position. She lay up against the wall on top of her pillow with her knees in her face and her arms wrapped around her long legs, whimpering like a hurt puppy. The drawers were open on her dresser. Papers and clothes were strewn across the room. On the wall, in big black letters and in Carla’s handwriting, read the words, “I’m here. Come find me.”
Sabre sat down next to her and cautiously placed her hand on Carla’s back, fearful of how she would react. She had never seen her like this. Carla let out a little whimper, but she didn’t pull away. Sabre stroked her arm and back, saying, “Carla, it’s Sabre. I’m here to help you. It’s going to be okay now.” She continued to speak to her in the same tone she always used on the phone.
Carla seemed to be comforted by her voice. Her whimpers decreased and she mumbled, “Budfries.”
Everyone else looked puzzled, but Sabre knew what she wanted and she began, “Butterflies and green pastures are all around you. In the distance is a sea of golden buttercups. The butterflies are everywhere, dancing on the thick, green grass. Oh, so much color …” After about five minutes, the whimpering had ceased and all they could hear was Carla’s breathing pattern, the soft sound of slumber.
Sabre continued to sit with her for a few more minutes in silence. She sighed as she stood up and looked around, trying to assess what happened. As she walked around the room, picking up Carla’s things and putting them away, she read over and over again what she had written on the wall, but she couldn’t make sense of it.
They left the room; only the attendant remained in her chair, keeping an eye on Carla. Phyliss, Sabre, and Bob walked in silence until they reached the waiting room at the end of the corridor. Sabre said, “Do you have any idea what she was looking for?”
“No, but it was as if she saw something or someone when she ran from the dining area. I think when she got to her room, she created the mess looking for something to write with, but I’m guessing. None of us can figure what she tried to convey with the message she wrote on the wall. We may be trying to put too much logic into it, but she’s never acted like this before. She rants for awhile every day, but for the most part she’s not a problem.”
“Did she say anything to anyone?” Bob inquired.
“Not really, at least nothing that made any sense. When she ran out of the dining area, she screamed, ‘run, run, run’ over and over again. She continued screaming as she ran through the hallways looking in rooms. Even after she was sedated, she kept saying it over and over.”
A door opened and closed at the opposite end of the hallway. Without a word, Sabre jumped up from her seat and ran towards it, but her high heels slowed her down. Without stopping, she reached down and pulled them off and ran in her stocking feet toward the door. Bob and Phyliss glanced at each other with puzzled looks, then ran after her. Bob yelled, “Sabre, what is it?” She didn’t stop until she reached the door. She threw it open and surveyed the room until she focused on a man standing near the microwave.
Sabre stood there staring at him as Bob and Phyliss rushed through the door, both breathing heavily. The man looked up at the three people all looking at him. He glanced around, as if to see what he had done wrong. He spoke, “What did I do? Am I not supposed to use the microwave?” When no one answered right away, he continued, “They told me this was the staff lounge, and I could eat in here. Am I wrong?”
Phyliss said between breaths, “No, you’re fine. You’re in the right room. Everything is fine.”
Sabre, still staring at the tall, blond man about ten feet from her, heard Bob say, “Sabre. Are you okay? What is it?”
“I … I’m okay,” Sabre said, not taking her eyes off the man. He stood about six feet tall, had prominent cheek bones, and a physique that only comes from working out.
Though mesmerized, Sabre heard Bob’s attempt to lighten the situation. “Sabre, he’s not a bad looking guy, but chasing him down the hallway is a little much, don’t you think?” Bob stepped around Sabre and reached out his hand to the man who appeared to be more than a little confused. “Hi, I’m Bob Clark and this is my twitter-pated friend, Sabre Brown.”
The man extended his hand to Bob. “Corbin Steele. I’m new here.” He took a step towards Sabre, reached out to shake her hand, and managed to catch her before she hit the floor.
When she came to, the man leaned over her and said, “Can you hear me?”
At first she didn’t respond. Instead, she reached up, caressed his face and squeezed his shoulder. “Yes,” she muttered, as she tried to stand up.
“Lie still for a few minutes and then we’ll help you up. You fainted.”
“Are … Are you …” she asked, unable to finish her question.
“I’m Dr. Corbin Steele. I help out here one day a week. This is my first day.” He smiled. “I don’t usually have this profound of an effect on beautiful women, but I must say I’m flattered.”
As Sabre sat up she felt dizzy. The man cautioned, “Slowly, sit up very slowly.”
Her mind grew clearer and she apologized, “I’m so sorry. I guess I acted pretty strange, chasing you down the hall and then fainting.”
As if a light bulb came on, she glanced at Bob and then Phyliss. “I know what’s wrong with Carla. She must have seen him this morning,” she said, pointing at Dr. Steele.
“Who is Carla?” the doctor asked.
Phyliss spoke up, “She’s a guest here. She had an episode this morning. She appeared to have seen someone and went running after them, not unlike what Sabre just did. But Sabre, why would Carla do that? For that matter, why would you?”
“I can explain,�
�� Sabre said. She took a drink of water Bob had brought her and breathed deeply. “Where’s my briefcase?” Bob handed it to her. Sabre pulled out a photo of her brother Ron, and handed it to the curious onlookers. “Look familiar?”
Their mouths widened with surprise. Phyliss spoke first. “Doctor Steele, he looks just like you. A few years younger, but this could be a picture of you.”
Bob moved closer to Sabre and put his arm around her. She knew he understood, more than anyone, what a shock this must’ve been to her.
Sabre felt validated by the fact everyone else saw the resemblance. Since Ron’s disappearance five years ago, she’d seen him so many times in the face of strangers, only to be disappointed. This time, it could’ve been his double. Still not convinced it wasn’t Ron, she knew how to find out. “Doctor Steele, I know this is a strange request, but I’m going to ask anyway. Could I see your right leg, just above the knee? Ron had a birthmark shaped like an hourglass just above the kneecap.”
The doctor must have seen the desperation in her eyes. “Okay, first you chase me down the hall and now you want to see my legs.” He joked as he lifted his pant leg and showed Sabre. “Sorry, no birthmark.”
“No birthmark,” she repeated. “I just needed to know. Thanks, and now I’m even more embarrassed.”
“Don’t be,” the doctor said. “It’s not every day I get to show such a pretty woman my legs.” He sounded sincere in his flattery.
Sabre took a deep breath, exhaled, and explained what had happened to her brother – how he had gone fishing five years ago and had never returned. She felt odd explaining this to his carbon copy. It felt surreal, like she was talking to Ron, yet she knew better. The more she heard him talk, his laugh – all of it confirmed his real identity, but his face made her heart ache.
“Sabre, what does this have to do with Carla?” Phyliss asked.
“Carla and Ron dated. In fact, they were quite an item. Although everyone took it hard when he disappeared, it seemed to take the greatest toll on Carla. They’d only been together a few months when he transferred to Dallas. They continued the relationship and managed to see each other at least once a month. Ron’s job brought him back here a lot, but at times when it didn’t, Carla went to Dallas to see him. She even made plans to move there. She loved him with all her heart. And she had already experienced so many losses in her life. Her father had a fatal heart attack when she was only seven years old. A few years later, her grandparents were bringing her little sister home from a visit at their house and a drunk driver struck their car. All three died in the crash. When Ron disappeared, I think it may have been one loss too many, especially since we weren’t sure he was dead. Carla just couldn’t let go. For months she’d go to the park and sit on the bench they’d once shared, waiting for his return. She’d arrive there just after dawn and stay all day. She would’ve stayed there all night if someone didn’t go after her. So, every day before dark, I’d go to the park and pick her up and bring her home.”
The Advocate - 01 - The Advocate Page 7