by Mary Deal
More of the artwork was just as superb. She shouldn't have doubted Daphine's creativity.
“Okay, you weren't here during the time our area became a stop-off along the Pacific Flyway,” Daphine said. She continued to unwrap. “So I have these, since you're enamored with our feathered friends.”
Sara expected to see masculine-looking close-ups of bird heads, which definitely wasn't her style. Instead, a triptych showed green-backed herons and white-faced ibis in flight over yachts dotting the Sacramento River below. In the distance lay the Rio Vista drawbridge and rolling Montezuma Hills.
It was another lesson not to second-guess Daphine's intuition, but to allow the surprises to unfold.
Daphine's eyes flashed and said something special was about to be revealed. “Remember, you told me about those two Peregrine Falcons you and Pierce saw?” She didn't wait and pulled the wrapper away from another painting.
Sara gasped. “You painted this?” She studied the perfect composition. “Of course, you did.”
The horizontal rectangular painting called attention to two Peregrine Falcons in flight, the perspective from above them, with wetlands below, Mt. Diablo and departing clouds in the background.
“Did it a few years ago.”
“I know exactly where to hang that one.”
Sara loved them all and wouldn't have said anything to hurt her cherished friend if she didn't. Daphine's ability to capture her subjects and make a statement through her talent was indeed rare. “How much?” she asked.
“Wha-at? You planning to leave town?” Daphine looked around and her expression changed to puzzlement. “I must have left one outside.” She dashed outside. Sara held the door open while Daphine carried in a tall rectangular piece. “Stand over there.” Daphine pointed across the room. Her eyes were full of excitement. “Go on.”
Sara backed up. Daphine purposely removed the wrapper slowly and teasing, kept checking to assure she was building suspense. Finally, she tossed the loosened wrapper aside.
Sara was stunned. She closed her eyes tight, and then opened them again while her mouth hung agape. “That's him! How did you… so soon… that's him!”
The framed pastel drawing, though scant, brought her attention to the upper left corner of the drawing where the eyes and temples of a middle-aged man looked back. The depiction was similar in style to the eyes in Leonardo da Vinci's Self-Portrait. The dream figure's lower left arm and hand, positioned midway down the composition where it should be on a person standing up, pointed downward.
“That's exactly what I've seen, over and over in my dreams.”
“You like it?” It was sepia and shadowy grays to emphasize the spooky mood of the dream.
The overall portrayal was that of a man shrouded in fog, with clarity intensified in the eyes and hand trying to communicate a location or object. The depiction invoked intense apprehension, and incited the feelings Sara felt each time she had the dream.
“You nailed it, Daph, right down to his crow's feet.” She felt as if the man had stepped out of her dream and into the room. She went to hug her cherished friend. “Thank you,” she said, barely able to whisper. She turned and ran her fingertips over the glass, wishing to sense the man's vital energies.
Daphine leaned the art against the wall and stepped back. “I'm sorry. I can't stay to help you hang these. I brought a bunch of hangers and nails though, if that'll help.”
Sara's cell phone rang early the next morning.
“Sara,” Johanna said in her usual conclusive way. “The investigators just released Talbot House.”
Sara jumped with glee. “Thank you,” she said, gushing into the phone.
“Listen,” Johanna said. “If you're moving back in, consider having someone stay with you at night. Know what I mean?”
“I hear you.”
“And don't eat or drink anything you haven't cracked the seal on yourself at that moment.” She took a breath. “At least till we find out who doped you two. Okay?”
Patio furniture and a barbeque arrived at the Clampett Tract home the following afternoon. Later, after making the beds, the house finally looked ready for occupants. Sara struggled with her fears, trying to decide what was best for her.
She telephoned the news of the release to the contractor.
“We can begin next Monday then,” he said.
“Great. I'd better get my computer out of there before the dust starts flying.”
Sara punched her cell phone to end the call and stared out the window. Neighborhood children skateboarded past in the street. Though she seldom saw people mingling and talking out on the sidewalks, the old neighborhood felt safe. Why then was there a continual nudge from the pit of her stomach?
Then she realized that moving her computer and living in Walnut Grove meant an inability to manage reconstruction of Talbot House. She envisioned working on her computer projects while the crews worked in other parts of the structure. The plan was to oversee their progress and still get her electronic work done.
Sara threw up her hands. Finally, she knew what had been gnawing at her ever since she signed the lease agreement. Part of her plan was to move into the Clampett Tract house, a temporary stay due to feeling guilty about imposing on the Aldens. It meant yet another move before returning to Talbot House. She detested moving her clothes and boxes of belongings, and especially her computer equipment, more than necessary. Finally, she realized the real reason was to get away from being alone at Talbot House because of the frightening activities taking place.
She need not worry. She owned a gun and knew how to fire it, and she would, if need be. The alarm system would be installed. With the investigation by the Sheriff's Department and the cold case detectives being so recent, anyone looking to do harm would be scared off. She had succumbed to circumstances dictating how she lived.
“Not on your life!” she said, not caring that she was the only person who needed to hear the words. Yet she still intended to carry out the rest of her plan.
Chapter 37
The hospital released Pierce the next day. Sara went to retrieve him and brought him a gift. Pierce opened the end of the package and out slid a new walking stick. His expression was humorously solemn. He lifted the stick high as he raised both arms in the air, like a conjurer about to cast a spell. The edges of his hospital gown flapped out like a magician's cloak. It was good that his gown opened at the back.
Sara drove as Pierce pulled on his seatbelt and leaned eagerly toward the windshield. They headed south through Freeport, the Gateway to the Delta. Tall leafy trees lined Hwy. 160 that hugged the foot of the levee. A long row of weathered, wooden single-story buildings lined the road. “Slow down,” he said, pointing ahead. “Just… about here.”
Sara pulled up in front of the Coffee Oasis. “Yeah, we can do this,” she said as her stomach growled.
“You know who owns this?” Pierce asked. He didn't wait for an answer. He was already slipping his weak body out of the SUV.
The front door stood open inside. The flimsy screen door lazily slapped shut behind them as they entered. Inside the cafe, patrons consisted of two women couples with one couple holding hands under the table. Johanna walked in through the back door wearing men's work clothes. Now Sara understood. Johanna acted masculine that morning at Talbot House when she arrived in uniform.
Johanna saw them and came straight over to hug Pierce for a good long while. “They turn you loose on the world again?”
“Yeah,” he said, smiling out of the corner of his mouth. “I'm a real terror.”
“I guess we shouldn't be here since Pierce is considered a suspect,” Sara said.
Johanna shrugged. “Hey, I can't control who walks through the door.”
“So this is your second job?” Sara asked.
“Sorta,” Johanna said. “Xena and I own it.” She gestured to one of the women behind the counter. “This is where you can find me when I'm not in uniform.”
“You still haven't chang
ed that name,” Pierce said, flopping into a chair at one of the tables.
Three men sauntered in and ordered coffee and a load of pastries-to-go, but talked more about bait and tackle.
“Probably won't,” Johanna said. She turned a chair backwards and straddled it and waited till the men left. Then she turned to Sara and snickered. “My lover and I wanted to name this place Les Beans, but, Ha! They'd have my badge.”
Sara and Pierce polished off a delicious home-style breakfast. Pierce's stomach seemed to have recovered nicely. A constant stream of coffee drinking farmers, and fishermen and women, kept the place in motion to the tune of the screen door squeaks and slaps. Two deputies made a quick trip in and out for their usual. One seemed to recognize Pierce. He glanced from Pierce to Johanna and back to Pierce again. He said nothing, but his eyes contained a look of suspicion that all law officers get.
“The other deputies support you?” Sara asked.
“All except Xavier.” Johanna jumped up to make a couple of fresh pots and then returned. “How are the dogs?”
“Those pups,” Sara said. “I hope we've found them a good home.”
“You looking to get rid of 'em?” Johanna asked.
“Esmerelda may have found a home. We're hoping to keep them together.”
Pierce couldn't resist a wedge of pear pie. “Yeah, but one pit bull is a handful,” he said between bites. “Try handling two.”
Chapter 38
During the drive home, Sara hedged. “I've found you a place to live but I need to show you something first.” They pulled into the driveway in Clampett Tract. “C'mon,wave that wand and fly yourself indoors.”
“Cute house,” Pierce said. “But why are we here?”
She felt pleased with her deception and smiled. “This is where you'll be staying.”
“You found me a room in someone's house?” Emotion showed on his face and changed from surprise and gratefulness to denial and then curiosity.
Sara pretended distraction. “Sort of. Let me show you around.”
Of the two tiny rooms on the right, Sara had set up the front bedroom as a fully equipped office. Behind that was a sparsely furnished bedroom containing a queen bed and a small dresser and that was about all the room might hold. They just peeped in.
The master bedroom was across the hallway beyond the only bathroom. The master bedroom contained a king-sized bed and an armoire.
“I don't need to see someone else's room.” Pierce hesitated at the doorway. “And I don't feel right about living with strangers.”
Sara pushed him into the room. “This is your room.”
“What?” Pierce nearly stumbled, trying not to enter.
Sara held to her charade. “The lady of the house is pretty busy. She's letting you have the bigger bedroom because you're going to be around more than her.”
Questions flashed across his face. Finally, he turned around, crossed the hall, and peeked again into the office. He eyed the elaborate computer system and then smiled wistfully. “Guess mine's still being held. I need to write about what just happened to me.”
“What about your book manuscripts, all the stuff on your computer?”
“That's all I had on it. Manuscripts. My publisher has them both on DVD and in a Cloud.”
“So use this computer.” Sara tried to stay behind him so that he couldn't read her face.
“I wouldn't want to be responsible for a stranger's equipment. It looks brand new. Any chance you'll let me come over and use yours till mine's returned?” Still, he entered the room and then turned and saw the painting of the Peregrine Falcons. “I love this! This homeowner has pretty special taste.” Then he remembered something and nearly fell, trying to hobble back into the living room. “That's Choco and Latte.” He pointed with the cane. “What are they…?” He collapsed onto the sofa as his eyes darted back and forth studying each painting, putting pieces of the puzzle together. “Okay, so this is Daphine's art, right? But she doesn't live here.”
“Yep and nope.”
He rose and went to stand and stare a good long time at the sepia and gray rendition. “This is what you dream.”
“Yep.”
Pierce looked weak and braced himself with a hand against the wall. Sara felt sorry that she had overwhelmed him. “Maybe you'd better lie down a while.”
Back in the master bedroom, Pierce touched the armoire and ran his hand down the wood grain. It wasn't a real expensive piece of furniture, but it was handsome and made for a man.
Sara accidentally glanced in the direction of the closet where Pierce's clothes hung, cleaned and readied by Daphine herself. Boxes of his salvaged personal items sat inside on the floor. On to something, he limped his way to the second bedroom and looked into that closet and found it empty. “Okay, who lives here?”
Sara smiled. “You do, Pierce.”
“But who else?”
Sara could no longer keep from smiling. “I had planned to stay here till my house was done, but I changed my mind.”
The truth hit Pierce all at once. “I can't,” he said, turning away. He tried to speak and couldn't. Overcome, he waved her away and hobbled up the hallway again, nearly stumbling by the office door. Surely, he couldn't remain on his feet much longer.
Sara pulled out the chair from in front of the computer desk but still he wouldn't sit. “You're the only one who lives here, Pierce. The investigators have released Talbot House. I'm going straight back home from the Aldens soon as the alarm system is in.”
“You think that'll keep you safe?”
She had already considered the possibilities and no one would change her mind now. “This is your new computer, Pierce. My gift to you for your gift to human kind.”
He finally understood. “I-I can't—”
“Oh, yes, you can.” She wouldn't let him talk himself out of accepting. “You're too valuable in this important research not to be able to hold up your end of the deal.”
He looked weak and said nothing. She offered the chair again. He fell into it and turned away, stifling tears.
“You'd better lie down.”
He stood and reached for her. “Sara, you've got the purest heart.”
“I'm just living the way I think is right.” This was one of the ways she would pay back her good fortune. After a lifetime of just getting by, she had so much and Pierce deserved to have his life turn around.
“May I hug you?”
“Why would you want to do that?” she asked, making a feeble attempt to tease. Then she saw that he was serious. She had never hugged people and always felt they might somehow learn of the misery she held inside.
“Because you don't have the ability to harm a living soul.”
Sara didn't know what to do next. It was true. She would never cause harm, and she was closer now to being the person she knew she was. If anyone would recognize the real her, it would be Pierce. Deep down, that might be what she needed from another human being. To be understood. Now she could have it, an opportunity to grasp. She began to tremble and felt utterly awkward but also felt as though she might throw herself into his arms. She bit her lip and managed a smile. “How do we do this?”
He smiled mischievously and slowly reached for her hand. “Like this.” His expression sobered.
“I'm not sure I can do this.” She tried to pull away.
Pierce held tight and wouldn't let her back away. He leaned his walking stick against the desk and reached for her other hand and pulled her close enough to place her hands behind his neck; his, tenuously around her back.
Sara felt a rush of emotion and empathy as they melted together in a full-body hug. Him caring at that moment forced Sara to face her loneliness. After a moment Pierce reached up and gently took her hands and brought them down between them.
Sara's head spun with the intensity of mixed emotions. It wasn't a falling in love kind of feeling they were experiencing. It was about two people with nothing to hide and learning how great it was to know that n
either harbored ill will of any kind. Except for her, maybe. Sara sensed a need to learn forgiveness. Feeling embarrassed by this self-realization, she needed to get away to think and would save the rest of the surprise for another time.
Chapter 39
Pierce's health remained in a state of flux. The research doctors again found a live-in nurse they felt would be right for his anomalies. The energetic, middle-aged woman quickly settled into the Clampett Tract house.
The nurse cooked and cleaned constantly because Pierce slept a lot. The woman could not be idle, except when she gobbled up books faster than saying cover-to-cover. She did the yard work too. She was a wonder woman who spread word around the subdivision that she could take on another part time patient as long as she could remain close to Pierce.
Sara was thankful someone was available for her cherished friend. She purposely stayed away, frequently taking Choco and Latte to give Esmerelda some relief. Two more of the patients at River Hospice passed away within days of each other and Esmerelda was too busy to care for the dogs.
“I wanted the owner to take them back,” Esmerelda said during one of their conversations. “The woman said it would be detrimental for the pups to change hands so much.” The young couple that planned to eventually take the dogs still paid boarding fees. That was some consolation.
Due to Sara's frequent visits to check on progress at Talbot House, Choco and Latte became accustomed to the crews working there. The pups became their mascots.
Sara cornered the electrical foreman. “When will the alarm system be in?”
“You'd better talk to the general,” he said. “He's got us moving walls and replacing most of the wiring. Can't just hang new before the old stuff comes out.”
#
After Sara slept a few hours each night, she would rise to work on her computer. Two o'clock in the morning was when her creativity woke her, like an alarm. She stayed as quiet as possible in order not to disturb Linette and Buck. She was afraid her extended stay would wear thin the bonds of friendship.