Fly Like a Bird

by Jana Zinser

  “It wasn’t one of us,” Virgil said.

  Ivy looked around in the darkness. “Then who was it?”

  “Most probably one of my ghosts,” Reuben said.

  They all piled back in the Monstrosity. Ivy gave the keys to Luther and climbed into the back. She nuzzled her face in Carly’s hair which smelled like the murky lake, but also like hope. The lake didn’t take her. It was a new chance.

  Reuben turned to Uncle Walter. “Hey, listen, Walter. Sorry about the zucchini. I shouldn’t have gone along with Tommy’s pranks all these years. Guess I was just looking for a distraction from my dang ghosts.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Tommy’s always been good at getting people to do the wrong thing.”

  Luther turned into his dirt driveway with the dogs running behind the camper. Patty sat hunched on the front porch, exhausted from the walk from her house. Patty flung open her arms when she saw Ivy get out of the back with Carly.

  “Carly!” Patty yelled.

  Ivy put Carly down. Carly ran to Patty, dragging Luther’s ragged bomber on the ground.

  “God bless this child. And God bless you all for finding her.” Patty held Carly and cried.

  Miss Shirley grabbed Ivy’s arm as if in a hurry. “I’ve got to get back to the restaurant. Got to clean up whatever’s left over after tonight. No one messes with my Carly-girl. I’ve been cleaning up all my life. Believe you me, I know how to clean up. Yes, I do.” Ivy hugged her, and Miss Shirley hustled away to her car.

  One by one, Ivy watched her exhausted friends leave Luther’s house. The fear and terror of the night had drained their strength, but they still had to give their statements as witnesses to Charlie before the night was over.

  Ivy hugged Luther, who stood awkwardly in her embrace. “Thank you, Luther. You have good instincts.”

  “Told you.”

  “I love you and I love your wild dogs.”

  Luther didn’t speak, but nodded and gave a little grunt as a tear ran down his cheek.

  Chapter 35

  PLAY THE HAND THAT’S DEALT

  After talking to Charlie at the station, Ivy, Uncle Walter, and Carly pulled the Monstrosity into the driveway at 4120. The old maple tree swayed. Its branches looked like open arms welcoming them home. Grandma sat wrapped in a quilt by the front window, waiting for them. Ivy pointed to the eighty-year-old woman bathed in the warm light of the big house. “Hey, look, Carly. Grandma’s still up waiting for you.”

  Grandma smiled and waved from inside the family’s old Victorian house. Carly waved back. “Grandma’s shrinking,” she said quietly.

  Ivy’s heart jumped. Carly had noticed Violet slipping away, too. “Yes, she is. Go on inside. She’s been worried about you.”

  Carly climbed out of the Monstrosity and rushed inside, followed by Ivy and Uncle Walter.

  Grandma hugged Carly tightly. “Give me some loving, my precious girl.” She kissed Carly’s upturned face.

  Ivy hugged Grandma as well, breathing in her lilac smell. They’d been gone an eternity in one night. She felt good to be home.

  Carly twirled around the room. “I love this place. I’m never leaving here again.”

  “You’re home,” Ivy said, relieved to have her little girl back.

  Dr. Kelsey came by soon after to make sure Carly was all right. He examined her and pronounced her fine. “Remarkable. She’s a strong little girl.” He planned to stop at Reuben’s farm to check out his twisted ankle before going to the clinic to deal with Miles’ body.

  When Ivy tucked Carly in bed for the night, she turned on the cow-jumping-over-the-moon nightlight. “The witch took me,” Carly said.

  “But we found you. I told you we would.”

  “He hurt my first mom when I was a baby, but he didn’t get me.”

  “No, he didn’t get you,” Ivy said with tears in her eyes.

  It would take a while for Carly to get rid of the nightmares about her ordeal.

  Ivy pulled up the blankets and looked down at the beautiful little girl who she had reluctantly agreed to raise. Now, she couldn’t live without her. Ivy had learned from Carly that no one was ever alone as long as someone loved them.

  After Ivy said good-night, Grandma shuffled into Carly’s bedroom in her untied tennis shoes. Ivy watched them from the doorway. Grandma sat on the side of Carly’s bed and kissed her good-night. Carly rubbed Grandma’s velvety robe, now many sizes too big.

  “Grandma, are you sick?” she asked.

  Grandma clicked her tongue. “Yes, you know I’m pretty old. My parts are just beginning to wear out. When you get as old as me, you know you aren’t going to live much longer. That’s why I’m so happy for every day I have with you before the Good Lord calls me up to heaven.” Grandma gently bounced the bed. “And why I’m so glad to have you home safely.”

  Carly’s eyelids fluttered as drowsiness cascaded over her like a waterfall. “It was scary in the lake, Grandma. I was afraid I would never see you again.”

  Grandma smiled as tears filled her eyes. “I love you, pumpkin.” She spread her arms apart. “I love you more than the great blue sky.”

  Ivy swallowed the lump in her throat as she watched them.

  Tears flooded Carly’s brown eyes. “I was scared I was going to die.”

  “The Lord’s not ready for you yet,” Grandma said. “But he’s almost ready for me.”

  Carly’s finger traced the blue veins showing through Grandma’s translucent skin. “But Grandma, aren’t you scared?”

  “No.”

  “But won’t you miss us when you’re up in heaven?”

  “Of course, I will.” Grandma tapped her tea-towel-stuffed bosom. “But I’ll be watching you, my sweet girl, from my back porch in the Great Hereafter.” The bed rocked as a tear ran down Grandma’s wrinkled cheek. “Always believe in possibilities.”

  “I did,” Carly said.

  “Exactly. You’re my strong girl.”

  Carly hugged her shrinking Grandma. “I wish I had a nice dad.”

  “Sometimes you get a nice father and sometimes you don’t. It isn’t fair. It’s just like playing cards. Sometimes you get a good hand and sometimes you just have to make the best out of what you’re dealt. It’s the luck of the draw. But you got lucky in other ways. You’ve got Grandpa Otis and Miss Shirley. You got a good mother. And you’ve got Uncle Walter and me.” Then Grandma sang “Red River Valley” until her little granddaughter drifted off to sleep.

  Ivy sighed. She felt relieved that Conrad wasn’t her father. She needed Robert’s image to hang onto and it seemed silly that she’d ever thought someone else could be her father. Grandma always told her Robert loved her like only a father could.

  Ivy watched Grandma go downstairs and lock all the doors, something she had never done before. Carly’s dangerous night took a lot out of Grandma, at a time when she didn’t have much left. Then Grandma shuffled into the kitchen and sunk down in a chair next to Uncle Walter.

  Ivy put a bag of popcorn in the microwave and pushed the buttons. The popping in the microwave sounded like an Iowa spring rain on an old tin roof. Then Ivy joined Grandma and Uncle Walter at the round kitchen table.

  Uncle Walter sighed. “Our little Carly-girl is safe.”

  Grandma leaned back in her kitchen chair. She clasped her hands and rocked them back and forth in the air in a thankful prayer as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. “Thank the Good Lord for bringing her home.”

  Then they all held hands around the table, grateful to have Carly back. The microwave dinged. Uncle Walter limped across the kitchen to get the popcorn. Ivy went down to the windowless canning room in the basement and got three Dr. Peppers from the darkest corner of the house that was so good at keeping the pop cold.

  She set the Dr. Peppers down on the kitchen table. Grandma shuffled the deck as they got ready to play cards, as if nothing was different from any other night of their lives. Uncle Walter put the popcorn bowl on the table and sat down.


  “Oh, my gosh, we need to call Otis and tell him Carly’s safe,” Ivy said.

  “There’s something I need to tell you about Otis,” Grandma said.

  “What?”

  Grandma coughed and cleared her throat. “I heard Otis moved himself into the Rose Hill Nursing Home today.”

  “Rose Hill? Why? He hates that place. Thelma’s there. That’s why I couldn’t find him this afternoon. What’s wrong with him?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he just gave up,” Uncle Walter shuffled the cards. “Let’s play some hearts.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with Otis. He’s still a young man,” said Grandma.

  Uncle Walter looked over at his mother. “Everyone’s a young man to you, Mother.”

  Grandma swished her hand at him. “Too much sorrow robs the spirit.”

  Uncle Walter dealt the cards, placing them methodically in front of each person. Grandma and Uncle Walter picked up their cards and fanned them out, studying them. Ivy’s cards lay on the table.

  “Why don’t the birds talk to me?” she asked.

  “They do. It just takes a while to hear them,” said Grandma.

  “But how come I never know what’s going on?” Ivy said.

  Uncle Walter tapped his cards on the table. “Well, maybe Otis doesn’t want to be a burden to you.”

  “Why would he think he’s a burden to me?” Ivy said.

  “Maybe he sees all the dreams you’ve sacrificed for me,” Grandma said.

  “What’re you talking about? You gave me my dreams. Without you two, it would have been just nightmares.” Ivy pulled her hair back in a ponytail and let it drop. She sighed. “Anyway, I’m going to go see Mr. Norton tomorrow. I’ve got to tell him about Carly and I’ll find out what he’s doing at Rose Hill.” She picked up her cards and fanned them out. She was dealt all hearts and the Queen of Spades, which could be a very good hand, depending on how she played it.

  Chapter 36

  ROSE HILL

  Although the ordeal was over, Ivy barely slept that night. She kept getting up to check on Carly. Finally, she just laid down beside her and slept. When the sun came up, she took a shower and got dressed. Then she drove to the Hy-Vee store on the town square to get some groceries.

  The cool spring morning showed only a few clouds in the sky. The earth needed a rest before the intense heat of the coming summer. Ivy pulled into the parking lot across the street from the courthouse.

  Charlie peered out the window, then hurried out of his office and down the steps. He beckoned to Ivy. “I need to relay some information that you might be interested in.” Charlie rubbed the loose skin under his chin and spoke in a whisper. “Not too many people know yet, but Conrad and Weston were found deceased at 6:08 a.m. in their jail cells.”

  Ivy’s mouth dropped open. “What happened?”

  Charlie rocked back on his heels. He took a deep breath. “Suspected poison mushrooms.”

  Ivy grabbed his arm. “Poison mushrooms? You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Nope. That’s what Doc Kelsey says. He should know. He’s seen it before with Luther’s dad.”

  Ivy shook her head and put her hand to her mouth. She looked up at the cloudy spring sky then back to Charlie.

  “Last night, I locked them up. They ate and went to sleep. By the time I came in this a.m., they were dead.”

  “What’d they eat?”

  “Miss Shirley brought over some fried chicken after the Coffey Shop closed up,” Charlie said.

  Ivy’s heart pounded but she quickly spoke up. “There was a pan of mushrooms on Conrad’s stove.” Maybe it was Conrad’s mushroom greed that had finally taken him down or maybe that night the fried chicken and Miss Shirley’s famous gravy had come with a side of false morel mushrooms. Didn’t Miss Shirley say that’s what she’d do? Maybe Miss Shirley had cleaned up.

  “Yeah, I saw them all over the floor of Conrad’s kitchen.”

  Ivy looked at Charlie. He nodded. “I’ll tell the doctor he was right.”

  Ivy jingled the keys in her sweaty hand. “I better go tell Grandma.”

  “How’s Violet doing, by the way?”

  “Well, Grandma’s been pretty sick lately. It’s hard for her to do too much by herself. Dr. Kelsey says if she lives to see the new year, it’ll be a miracle.” Ivy kicked at the gravel in the parking lot. “To tell you the truth, I think she wants to go.”

  Charlie scratched the side of his face. “Hard to think of Coffey without her.”

  “Yeah. I know.” Ivy wanted to get out of there. “Thanks for everything.”

  Charlie shook her hand and nodded quickly.

  Ivy walked toward the car feeling a little lightheaded. Was it possible that the Thrashers were finally gone from her life? She turned back to Charlie. “Do you think you’ll have to investigate their deaths any further?”

  “Doubt it. I think justice has been served, don’t you?”

  She nodded. Mushroom justice.

  “What about Miles? Any ideas where the bullet came from?”

  “Nobody saw a thing. It was like a shot from the dark. We combed the woods and couldn’t find anything. Damnedest thing I ever saw,” Charlie said. “Well, got to go meet the guys at the Coffey Shop. You take care, Ivy. Tell your grandma I said hello.”

  Charlie sauntered across the street.

  Ivy couldn’t say she was sad about Miles’ death. In fact, all she felt was relief. And as for the Thrashers, it was a short journey to their final destination.

  Grandma was right—their souls had drifted away when Mildred died. Many people in town sighed with relief. There would have to be a new election for mayor and perhaps now, bank loans would be given on merit instead of personal prejudice. But Ivy felt her mother was partially to blame for their demise. Her mother had used men and destroyed many lives because of her desperation to get out of Coffey and escape from the little baby she never wanted and the husband she didn’t love.

  That afternoon, Carly baked cookies with Uncle Walter as Grandma supervised from her chair in the kitchen.

  Ivy bought a bottle of Haig & Haig scotch and went to visit the self-exiled Otis at the Rose Hill Nursing Home.

  The big front desk of the nursing home engulfed tiny Thelma Sampson. She tapped the chewed-up end of her pencil against the desk. “What do you want?” she said as Ivy approached.

  “I want to see Otis. What room is he in?”

  Thelma peered over her half-glasses at Ivy. “Is he expecting you?” She looked exactly like Uncle Walter’s gnome riding the mushroom. The evil pixie.

  “No, but I’m sure he’ll want to see me.”

  “Are you planning on staying long?”

  Ivy leaned over the desk toward Thelma. “Thelma, I don’t have time for this. Tell me his room number, please.”

  Thelma glared and waved her stubby finger at Ivy. “8B, but don’t you bother him none.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Ivy hurried down a long hall that smelled of musty clothes locked in a trunk for many years. “Hey, wait. What you got in that sack?” Thelma asked from behind the desk.

  Ivy ignored her and kept walking.

  “We have strict rules at Rose Hill, you know,” Thelma called after her.

  Ivy quickened her pace down the dark corridor. She didn’t want Thelma to see the top of the scotch bottle sticking out of the brown paper bag. As she walked down the hall, her shoe stuck to the floor. She stopped and examined the sole. A dead cockroach was smeared on the bottom of her shoe. Ivy scraped her shoe on the tile floor and continued on her way to Otis’s room. She knocked on the door marked 8B, but there was no answer. She knocked harder.

  “Mr. Norton? It’s Ivy.”

  A muffled voice answered. “If it’s bad news, don’t tell me.”

  Ivy pushed the door open. Otis sat on the side of an unmade bed in a dark room.

  “Did you find my Carly?” he asked.

  Ivy nodded and sat down beside him on the bed. “Yes
, she’s safe at home.”

  Otis hung his head and his shoulders heaved with heavy sobs. Tears of relief fell in torrents. “I was afraid I’d lost her, too.”

  Ivy put her arm around him. A small TV blazed in the darkness with its volume turned off. Ivy’s eyes adjusted to the darkness and the glow from the tiny screen. She patted his arm. “She’s fine. I’ll bring her by to see you tomorrow.”

  Ivy stood up and turned off the TV. Then she felt for the switch on the wall and flicked on the light. Otis’s eyes drooped heavy and dark. His wrinkled and stained clothes hung on his lanky frame and his unshaven face looked slack and ashy. His hair, usually so tidy, stuck up in places. She’d never seen the dapper man looking so awful.

  “Everything’s going to be okay.” Ivy pulled out the bottle of scotch. “I brought you something to wash away your troubles.”

  “Thank you,” Otis sobbed, “but I think I’ve got too many troubles for that one bottle.”

  “Well, it’s a start.” Ivy held his hand until the tears stopped.

  “Had a little run-in with Thelma, your prison guard. Thought I was going to need a garden hoe.”

  He smiled and Ivy recognized the old Otis. “Yeah, Thelma’s an old battle-ax, but she’s harmless.”

  Ivy sat down beside him on the bed. “What are you doing here, Mr. Norton? If I’d known, I never would have let this happen to you.”

  He put his head down and shifted on the bed. “That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

  Ivy tried to look into his downcast face. “Why wouldn’t you want me to help you?”

  Otis didn’t look up. “Because if you have me to worry about, you’ll never get out of Coffey like you’ve planned your whole life. I’m getting old. I don’t need much, and you’ve got Carly to think about. We almost lost her.” He began to cry again. “You’ve got more to worry about than me. It’s okay here.”

  “No, it’s not okay. It’s not okay at all. You need to be drinking sweet tea on the back porch as the sun sets on the fields, not in a black hole like this place. You need to be killing snakes and Lord only knows what else with your garden hoe. You could use a hoe in here. I stepped on a roach walking down the hall just now.”