Talk of the Town

Home > Other > Talk of the Town > Page 5
Talk of the Town Page 5

by Anne Marie Rodgers


  “My pride…?” Caterwauling? Louise shook her head. “I’m sorry, I believe you have me confused with someone else, ma’am.”

  “I most certainly have not.” Thumps with the cane accented the last two words. “You’ve been wanderin’ up and down the street tryin’ to find your Wendell, haven’t you?”

  “I… oh!” As comprehension dawned, Louise did not know whether to laugh or to cry. “Wendell isn’t a man,” she told the old lady. “He’s my cat. He stowed away in a car this morning and jumped out the window at the gas station on the corner.”

  “Yer cat?” The woman’s face softened from the ferocious scowl it had been wearing. “Well, that’s another story. I like cats. Tell me what he looks like and I’ll keep my eyes peeled for him.”

  It was nearly three o’clock when Louise’s feet finally demanded immediate respite. Feeling terribly defeated, she spoke to the gas station clerk one last time. The girl gave her a piece of paper on which to write a description and then affixed it to a bulletin board inside the door.

  “You’ll find him,” the girl said, patting Louise’s shoulder encouragingly. “When he gits hungry, he’ll be back.”

  The girl’s attempt at comfort was touching, and Louise mentally asked forgiveness for the critical thoughts she’d had earlier. Then, climbing wearily into her car, she turned it toward Acorn Hill.

  “Louise is back!” Alice jumped to her feet, nearly tipping over the bowl of hard-boiled eggs she had been peeling for egg salad. “I hope she found him.”

  “She must have,” Jane said as they both rushed down the back porch steps and out to the parking lot, where Louise’s car door was opening.

  But one glance at their elder sister’s face when she emerged told the story.

  Alice stopped cold. “Oh, Louise,” she said, her voice wobbling. “We were so sure you’d be able to find him.”

  “So was I,” Louise said. “But no one has seen him, and if he heard me, he must be too upset to come to me.”

  The three sisters walked back into the kitchen and Louise sank down on one of the chairs and slipped off her shoes. She winced, and Alice noticed. When Alice glanced down at her sister’s feet, she understood why Louise was in pain.

  “Oh, my heavens. Your poor feet.” She brought a second chair around and lifted Louise’s legs so her feet were propped on the seat of the chair. “Jane, get me a bucket of warm water.” To Louise, she said, “You need to soak your feet. I believe I have some Epsom salts upstairs.”

  Walking out of the room was a relief for Alice. As she hurried up the stairs, she could not suppress the tears that rose. “Oh, Wendell,” she said softly. “I know Father would welcome your company in heaven, but I’m not ready for you to leave me.”

  The box of Epsom salts was beneath the sink in Alice’s third-floor bathroom. Picking it up, she composed herself, brushed the tears away and went back down to the kitchen.

  Louise shared her search efforts with Jane and Alice, and they laughed fleetingly at her tale of the elderly woman’s misunderstanding. But the light moment could not overcome the gloom and sorrow that permeated the room.

  As Jane gently dried Louise’s feet with a soft towel a short time later, Alice said, “Let’s pray.”

  “I have been,” Jane said, “but it would be comforting to me if we all prayed together.”

  The sisters linked hands.

  “Dear Father,” Alice began, “please keep Wendell safe. Please…” She felt a sob rising and had to stop to regain her composure.

  Jane took over the prayer. “Please bring him home to us. You know our hearts, how much we love him. Bless our search efforts and let them bear fruit.”

  “And Lord,” Louise said, “forgive me for my impatience. Wendell is one of Your precious creatures, made with the instincts You gave him, and I forgot that. Don’t let any harm befall him. Help him find something to eat and to drink, and give him a warm place to rest until we bring him home again. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Jane and Alice echoed.

  Chapter Five

  Wednesday evening, Alice was sitting listlessly in the living room when Maxwell Vandermitton came into the foyer.

  “Uh-oh, Maxwell,” she heard Jane say, “you’re tracking mud across the floor. Please remove your shoes before you go upstairs. Where on earth have you been to get so covered in mud?”

  “Just out walking.” The young man sounded a bit defensive. “I’ll take off my shoes and set them outside the back door for now.”

  “Thank you, that’s a good idea,” Jane responded. “By tomorrow morning the mud probably will have dried and you’ll be able to clean most of it off.”

  There was a momentary pause. “I don’t know how to clean shoes,” Maxwell admitted to Jane.

  There was a long pause. Jane apparently was as puzzled as Alice felt by that statement. Finally, Jane said, “Most of it will fall off if you take them out in the grass and bang them together. Come find me after you try that, and I’ll show you how to remove what’s left.”

  Alice heard Jane climb the stairs as Maxwell’s footsteps headed down the hallway. In a moment, he was back, his stockinged feet making soft thuds as he walked.

  “Alice!”

  Rats. He’s seen me. Alice was not feeling very social at the moment, but she couldn’t be rude to a guest. “Hello.”

  Maxwell dropped down on the sofa beside her, then turned and peered down at her. “What’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

  She nodded. “Our cat got lost today.”

  “How do you know he’s lost?”

  Alice relayed the story of Wendell’s escape and Louise’s futile search. “It hurts my heart to think of how afraid he must be, alone in a strange place with no food or water. I’m so afraid he’ll get hit by a car or attacked by some other animal. He isn’t used to fending for himself.”

  “Maybe someone will find him.” Maxwell patted her shoulder. “And if not, you can always get another cat.”

  “Maxwell!” Alice was too upset now to worry about offending a guest. “Wendell is not replaceable. He’s a living being, not a stuffed toy. My father picked him out of a litter when he was a tiny kitten, a few years before Father died, and he’s very special to me—to all of us.”

  Maxwell was quiet for a moment. Alice hoped he might take her silence as a hint and just go away.

  Then he said, “I’m sorry, Alice. I never had a pet. I don’t really know what it’s like to love an animal.”

  Alice sighed. He’d succeeded in making her feel petty and mean. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s just that Wendell is very special. No other cat will have his silly little quirks, his personality.” There was a pause. Then, as his words penetrated her haze of sadness, she said, “You never had any kind of pet?”

  “Not even a fish,” he confirmed. “My father never would have tolerated having pets in the house. And as I told you before, I was at school most of the time. Of course, pets are not welcome at boarding school. I did learn to ride, but I never cared much for horses.”

  “I see.”

  “You know, I don’t believe I’ve ever spoken so much to anyone about my past.” Maxwell sounded surprised. “You’re very easy to talk to, Alice.”

  She considered the fleeting exchanges that she’d had with their guest, and the few details she’d learned. How sad that he felt she had learned a lot about him. “Thank you,” she said quietly, resolving to be a better hostess and a better Christian friend. “I’m happy to listen any time you’d like to talk.”

  “Actually,” Maxwell said, “I would like to ask you some questions. I’m very interested in Acorn Hill. I can imagine that growing up here was very peaceful and secure.”

  “Peaceful might not be a term I’d use for a household of three girls,” Alice said, smiling a little. “But we were happy most of the time. And secure—yes, I certainly felt comfortable and safe anywhere I went. The community still inspires that feeling in people, I believe.”

&n
bsp; “So you’ve known most of the people around here your whole life.”

  “Many of them, yes. Others are more recent transplants from other locales who enjoyed our atmosphere and decided to make their homes here.”

  “Everyone seems to know one another awfully well.”

  “It’s a given in most small towns,” Alice told him. “There are no secrets.”

  Maxwell chuckled. “That would be an interesting theory to put to the test.”

  There was something remotely disdainful in his tone, something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. But, she reminded herself, he had not grown up in an atmosphere conducive to trusting others. She imagined the concept of other people knowing all about your business was so alien that he couldn’t quite grasp it.

  Then her gaze lit on a bright red stuffed mouse half hidden beneath the Oriental rug and she forgot all about Maxwell’s social issues.

  Oh, Wendell. She glanced at her watch. She was working the night shift from eleven to seven, but when she left the hospital, she intended to go to search for him. Tomorrow was the day they would find their beloved pet. She just knew it.

  The atmosphere at breakfast on Thursday morning was subdued. Jane presented sliced smoked salmon on toast with cream cheese, red onion and capers to their guests, along with butternut and bran muffins, cranberry jam, fresh strawberries in cream and their choice of beverages. Miss Havishim and Maxwell both raved about the salmon, but Jane could work up only the faintest pleasure in their enthusiasm. All she could think about was that Wendell had missed two meals now. He had to be upset, hungry, afraid—she tried to stop thinking about him. She couldn’t let herself dwell on Wendell or she would have a total meltdown.

  Louise came into the kitchen just as Jane was finishing tidying up. She had had an early lesson with one of her adult students. When Jane offered to fix her a plate, Louise declined.

  “Thank you, dear, but I’m just not hungry. I barely slept a wink last night.” She looked as if she had been up all night. Deep circles beneath her blue eyes made her look years older.

  “I know.” Jane untied her voluminous white apron and hung it in the pantry. “I just got done telling myself that I can’t dwell on Wendell all day. I’m going to make up the guest rooms and do a little cleaning. Then I thought perhaps I would make posters that we could take to Potterston and hang in several places.”

  “I hope that won’t be necessary,” Louise said. “I keep thinking the phone is going to ring, and someone will tell us they have found our boy.” She glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. “Where’s Alice? I expected her to be home from work by now.”

  Jane shrugged. “She hasn’t called, but you know Alice. She gets caught up helping with patients through the end of a shift and forgets the time. I imagine she’ll be home soon.” Then, when Jane glanced at the clock, she did a double take. “Oh my. It’s nearly eleven. Shifts do run over, but Alice has never been this late before.”

  “That’s what I was trying to say.”

  Jane went to the phone. “I think I’ll call the hospital and check. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, but just to be sure…” She punched in the number of the Potterston Hospital impatiently and waited for the receptionist, then asked for Alice. A moment later, she put down the phone and looked at Louise soberly. “Alice left the hospital at least two-and-a-half hours ago.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine.” Jane knew she sounded as if she were trying to convince herself. “Perhaps she had some errands to run.”

  “Do you think we should go and look for her?”

  “Let’s give her a little more time,” Jane suggested, although part of her badly wanted to jump in her car and begin searching. “Our routine has been upset since lunch yesterday. She simply might have forgotten to call.”

  Louise glanced at the clock. “All right. One hour. We’ll give her until noon but after that, if we don’t hear from her, I’m going to look for her.”

  “All right.” Jane squared her shoulders. “I’m going to get to work.”

  “As am I. I have more lessons to prepare.”

  Shortly before twelve, Jane heard the kitchen door open and close. She raced downstairs, nearly colliding with Louise, who had come out of the parlor.

  “Was that the door?” Louise asked.

  “Yes. Alice!” Jane was now a few steps ahead of her sister and she could see Alice shrugging out of her jacket. “We’ve been so worried. Where were you?”

  Alice’s shoulders slumped and she plopped down at the table, massaging her temples with her fingers. “I’m sorry. I went to look for Wendell after my shift ended and I lost track of time.” Her air of sadness made it clear she had not found their pet.

  “Did you speak to anyone who lives in the area?” Louise asked. “I thought perhaps he would go to someone’s home when he got hungry.”

  Alice nodded. “I spoke to several people who were walking dogs or pushing baby strollers. Everyone promised to keep an eye out for him, but no one has seen him.”

  “It’s only been one day,” Jane said, trying to encourage herself as much as her sisters. “He’s got to be out there.”

  “I’m going to call the Potterston radio station,” Louise announced. “They have a lost-and-found segment twice every day, at eight AM and at five PM. Maybe someone will hear that and see Wendell, and we’ll get a call.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Alice raised her head wearily.

  “You should get some sleep,” Jane said, concerned by her sister’s atypical lack of energy. “You worked all night and searched half the morning.”

  “Yes,” Louise said. “Why don’t you rest, Alice? Jane is going to make a flyer on the computer, and tomorrow we can post copies all over Potterston.”

  “Yes,” Jane confirmed. “And we can spread the word here as well, just in case people are traveling to Potterston. Everyone can be on the lookout for Wendell.”

  “All right.” Alice’s eyes welled with tears, and she blinked rapidly. “Sorry. I’ll be steadier after I’ve gotten some rest.”

  “It’s all right,” Jane said. “We’re all having bad moments.” She pulled a travel-sized pack of tissues from the back pocket of the baggy ivory cotton pants she wore with a soft blue oversized boatneck sweater. “Here.”

  Louise and Alice both managed to smile.

  “Trust you to be prepared,” Louise said.

  “All right,” Jane said firmly, giving Alice a nudge. “You rest. I’m going to make that poster right now.”

  “And I’ll call the Potterston radio station,” Louise said.

  Jane went to the computer behind the registration desk. Sliding into a chair, she quickly got into the program she wanted. Fortunately, one of their guests had taken digital pictures of Wendell while staying at Grace Chapel Inn. The woman had sent several by e-mail to Jane, who had saved them in a file on the computer. She selected the best one, a full-body picture of Wendell lying on his side, face turned straight into the camera lens.

  Using the photo, she created a flyer offering a small reward for his safe return. She had not discussed the reward with her sisters, but she doubted they would mind, and if they did, she would pay the money herself.

  When the printer spit out a high-quality flyer, Jane snatched it up and scanned it. That should be good for a start, she thought, and she ran off twenty copies.

  Louise came into the hallway and picked up a flyer off the registration desk. “Very nice,” she said, looking over the information with approval. “Oh, what a good idea! I’ll be happy to share the cost of a reward, Jane.”

  “Thanks, Louise. I thought perhaps a reward might keep people more interested in looking for him.”

  Shortly after three o’clock, Alice awoke from her nap. She felt lethargic and dull but she made herself rise and dress, and then went downstairs. As she walked through the hall, the flyers with Wendell’s picture caught her eye.

  Picking up one, she looked it over
as she went back toward the kitchen.

  “Hello, Jane,” she said as she entered the room.

  “Hi, Alice. How are you feeling?” Jane was rhythmically kneading a lump of bread dough.

  Alice shrugged. “A little more rested, but I doubt I’ll have any trouble sleeping tonight.” She waved the paper in her hand at her sister. “These are very well done.”

  “Thank you. I figure it can’t hurt to spread them around Potterston.”

  “Can you spare a few? I’m going to walk into town and I can put them up while I’m there.”

  “Sure. I saved the final version of it so if we run out, I can always make more.”

  Putting on her jacket, Alice made the short trip on foot from the inn to town. She put posters on public bulletin boards at the General Store, the library, the post office and in the front window of the Good Apple Bakery with Clarissa Cottrell’s blessing. Her last stop was the Coffee Shop, where Hope Collins helpfully brought her some tape so she could position a flyer prominently in the front window right next to the menu June placed there every day.

  “Thank you so much,” she said to Hope and to June, who were behind the counter sorting currency during the afternoon lull.

  “I hope you find him,” June told her sympathetically. June was a cat lover too.

  Just then a commotion interrupted the women’s chat.

  Two grade-school boys burst into the shop, wild-eyed. “There’s a monster out there!” one of them blurted.

  Alice recognized him as Jason Ransom, one of Louise’s piano students. The other boy was Charles Matthews, also a piano student and a member of the Grace Chapel congregation.

  “A monster?” she said, making her eyes wide. “Did you see it?”

  “No, but we saw its tracks by the pond,” Charles told her. Hope and June were both listening, and a few other people lingering in the shop also looked as if they were dying to hear more.

  “Its tracks. What did they look like?” A raccoon, maybe, Alice thought. Although there were bears in Pennsylvania, they weren’t common to the area around Acorn Hill.

 

‹ Prev