Saturday’s child works hard for a living
But the child who is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonnie and blithe, and good and gay….
I could hear their voices, young girl voices all sing-song-y. Patent leather shoes tapped the floors as they jumped in time.
Harper…come on, slowpoke. Why do you have to be dead last at everything?
“Jeopardy?” I whispered. “Is that you?”
“Of course, dummy. Get your head out of the clouds and come on. How are we going to double-jump without you?”
I ran up the second set of stairs now. I could hear my sisters jumping rope in the big empty room on the top floor. That was the best place to jump rope when it rained. And it was raining now. I raced to the doorway, and my hands were on the doorframe. My eyes were closed, and I couldn’t face it if I opened them and they were ghosts. I didn’t want to see them like that.
Please don’t be horrible, I thought. Don’t be ghosts!
The rain stopped, and I felt comforting warmth, like the sun shining on my face. I opened my eyes and without a second thought walked into the room.
I was home at Summerleigh. Jeopardy smiled at me and handed me one of the ropes. I had found her after all! I kissed her cheek and took my place across from Addison. As always, Loxley and Jeopardy would jump first. I had questions for Jeopardy, so many questions, but strangely enough, I could remember none of them at the moment.
Monday’s child…we began to sing together. Our shoes tapped, we sang, and I realized I was young again. My hands were young; I wore my pink dress, the one with the strawberries on the collar and hem.
I was home now, and I would never leave again.
Chapter Three—Jerica
I had been mistaken about Eddie’s theft; he’d taken more than my fifty dollars. He stole my bank card too. How could I have missed that? Fortunately, my bank called my cell phone to notify me that there had been unusual activity on my card. I told them my wallet had been stolen, which was partly true. They were going to investigate, but as it stood now, my ex-husband had cleaned out both my checking and savings accounts. The bank encouraged me to file a police report, and luckily for me—or unluckily, however you wanted to look at it—I had a contact at the police department. I pulled Detective Michelle Easton’s card out of my purse and called her the first chance I got.
During a long, embarrassing conversation, I explained what happened. She said, “I’ll get the papers started, but you’ll need to come by and sign them so I can start recouping your money. Over three grand, huh? Mr. Poole is looking at a felony or two with this one. And you still want to do this?”
“I don’t have any choice this time, Detective. The bank insists on having a police report of the theft, and frankly, I don’t know of any other way to get him the help he needs.”
Easton went quiet as if she were thinking about my statement but didn’t offer any advice. “I’ll have it ready when you get here. Do you have somewhere to stay this evening?”
“Uh, no. Why?”
“Well, he may have a key to your apartment. You need to change the locks.”
I glanced over my shoulder. Someone was coming into the break room, and I wouldn’t be able to keep my shameful secret to myself with a dozen ears in here. It was bad enough that Anita knew. It was almost time to go anyway. “I don’t have the money for that right now. He stole it! Besides, I don’t have anything left for him to take. He’s got my medication and my money.”
“Wait, you didn’t say he took your medication. That’s another felony, possession of a controlled substance for starters. Whatever you do, come by here when you can. The sooner we get started, the better the chance we find him with at least some of your cash.”
“Alright, I’m leaving now.”
“Great, see you in my office.”
I hung up, retrieved my purse and headed out with a wave to Marcheline, the evening supervisor. “See you later.” Pausing in the doorway, I considered saying goodbye to Harper, but she’d been sleeping the last time I peeked in on her.
“Wait up, Jerica,” Anita called to me.
“Yes?” I put a fake smile on my face.
“I’m not trying to be nosy, but you take this.” She shoved a crumpled bill in my hand. “No argument. You do what you have to. If you need anything else, you let me know.” She hugged me quickly and left me standing on the damp sidewalk. Opening my hand, I was surprised to find a hundred-dollar bill.
So that had been Anita in the break room. Well, I knew she would keep a confidence, and I was sure going to pay her back. I tucked the money into my pocket and climbed into my rust bucket. I leaned back in the seat pondering what I wanted to do. Two felonies? How long would that add up to? Obviously, Eddie would do prison time; he’d escaped that fate twice already, but this time…this time would be the real deal. And I would be the one to send him there. I believed what I had told the detective, that this would be the only way he would get any help, but now I was halting between two minds.
What should I do? Take the financial loss and let him slide or be the one to turn the key in the lock? Screw it. He didn’t care about me or my pain. All he cared about was himself. I had to do this or else I would be letting him take me down with him.
I am sorry, Marisol. I am so sorry about your Daddy.
I heard nothing except my cell phone ringing. Unknown number…did I dare answer it? Of course, responsible me, I had to. What if it was a doctor or someone from my medical staff?
“Hello?”
“Hey, Jerica. Don’t hang up.”
“Don’t hang up? Are you crazy calling me? I want my money back, Eddie, and my medication! You robbed me, you bastard. Me, of all people! You robbed me!” I didn’t mean to start sobbing, but I did. It didn’t last long.
“If you would let me explain…please, Jerica. Marisol…”
“Don’t you dare mention her name! Don’t you dare!”
“I lost a daughter too, Jerica.”
Then I said the meanest thing I could think of, and saying it brought me no joy. “Well, at least she won’t have to see what a complete failure you’ve become.” Eddie went silent, but I knew he was still there. “The cops are looking for you, Eddie, and I am going to tell them every place I think you’ll be. Every place! Don’t you ever contact me again. Don’t even say my name, or hers! You’re dead to me!”
“You’re an ice cold bitch, Jerica! Ice cold! You hear me? You turn me into the cops, and I’ll make you regret it. Marisol is gone because of you! You killed my…”
I hung up on him and tossed the phone on the passenger side floorboard so I couldn’t pick it up. I went straight to the police station and signed on every dotted line Detective Easton asked me to.
“What are your plans for tonight? Are you still staying at the apartment?” she asked me.
“No, I’m going to a hotel, but I have to get some clothes first.”
Easton got up and slid on her jacket. “Alright, let’s go. I’ll drop this off at the Warrant Division, and then we’ll go together. I don’t trust him, Mrs. Poole. If he’s got the cajones to rob you, of all people, there’s no telling what else he’d do.” I didn’t tell her about his latest phone call. Why add years to the sentence? He was a low-down, dirty, backstabbing bastard, and I wanted her to find him. And I agreed with the detective. Eddie was perfectly capable of hurting me. I would have never believed it before all this, but now? Absolutely.
“Thank you.”
An hour later, I was checking into a local hotel. I took the detective’s advice and got a room that could only be accessed from the inside, and I parked my car away from the building. I missed my apartment and hoped that Easton would nab Eddie quickly so I could return home without fear of repercussions.
After eating a bland meal from the hotel grill and showering, I felt kind of human and decided to try and get some sleep. I had forgotten to pack socks, and my feet were freezing. I shoved them under the covers and eventually fell
asleep. I don’t know how long I slept, but it couldn’t have been too long. Or at least it didn’t feel like it. I pretended that I didn’t hear the phone ringing on the nightstand. It couldn’t be good news. I didn’t pick it up.
As I drifted off to sleep, I heard a young woman’s voice calling me. At first it sounded like she was underwater, but then her voice became clearer. I could see her now. Her bobbed hair was pinned back on the left, and she wore a pink dress with strawberries embroidered on the collar and hem. She was tall and pretty and oh so familiar.
“Harper?” I whispered. She stretched her hand out to me, and I took it. I wondered if I was dead but didn’t voice the question. Instead, I followed her, and then she disappeared.
I was somewhere I had never been before, but I knew where I was. Somehow, I knew.
I was at Summerleigh.
Chapter Four—Harper
July 1942
Momma’s shiny black Chevy Master DeLuxe raced up the driveway toward Summerleigh, leaving a wide trail of dust in its wake. It was hot and sticky out; we needed rain to tamp down the powdery red dirt, but no luck so far. Momma and Augustine Hogue had gone shopping this morning in Momma’s new car, a gift from her father, Mr. Daughdrill. Although he was our grandfather, we weren’t allowed to call him Grandpa or anything like that; he preferred Mr. Daughdrill. I had no idea what Momma had done to earn such a vehicle. Our grandfather rarely appeared in our lives, only when my father wasn’t around. There was no love lost between the two, that much was certain, but Momma had always stood by Daddy in her own selfish way.
Momma and Miss Augustine were laughing as they walked through the back door. Momma deposited her shopping bags on the kitchen table and walked through to the parlor without even a hello to me. The ladies removed their hats and took their seats by the radio. Amanda of Honeymoon Hill would come on in a few minutes, and they never missed their favorite program. Sometimes my sister Addison joined them, but not today. She remained in her bed with a toothache; it was less a toothache and more a heartache. I reminded her that Daddy would be gone for only a few weeks this time; this deployment was much shorter than the others. Daddy had a very special mission to accomplish, I told her, but it hadn’t helped. Daddy was a larger-than-life figure, a handsome man with a beaming smile and a deep devotion to his Belles. He had been our hero before the war, and now he had become a hero to our entire community. Nobody could put him down now. He’d saved too many men, rescued too many soldiers for those naysayers to continue their mockery of John Jeffrey Belle.
Jeopardy was sulking somewhere upstairs. As soon as Daddy left the house, she began writing him a long letter, probably berating him for leaving or some such nonsense. Jeopardy wrote him daily while he was gone, although she wasn’t always allowed to mail her letters. Momma would fuss about the cost of postage and remind Jeopardy that Daddy had better things to do than write letters to a girl. He had work to do, but that didn’t discourage Jeopardy. She’d find a way to earn change enough to mail her letters.
I wrote Daddy too, but not nearly as much as Jeopardy did. I had other responsibilities like cooking supper, cleaning the house and caring for the garden. Besides, Daddy didn’t write me back, not like he did with Jeopardy. And in the end, I didn’t want to compete with my sister for Daddy’s affections. Addison never wrote him because writing gave her headaches, she said, and little Loxley could barely write her name. Heaven knows if Momma ever wrote him, but he certainly sent her cards, letters and gifts all the way from Europe. Jeopardy always ended up with those trinkets; otherwise, they might find their way to a pawn shop or a yard sale. Momma didn’t treasure Daddy’s gifts like we did.
The ladies were laughing about something. I already had the tea brewed and cooling on the counter. And then the intro music came on and they grew quiet. I poured two glasses of tea, broke off a few pieces of ice from inside the freezer, dropped them in the glasses and carried them to the parlor. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jeopardy skulking on the stairs, but I didn’t give her position away; I didn’t have to. Momma spied her and called her down during the opening commercial. Amanda of Honeymoon Hill always had lots of advertisements at the beginning of the broadcast. I think I liked those better than the actual program. Someday I would get to try that fancy new Pepti Toothpaste.
“What are you wearing, Jeopardy? Is that the same dress you wore yesterday?” Momma frowned at her oldest daughter as she walked toward her. “And when was the last time you brushed your hair…or your teeth? Come here and stop slouching.” Jeopardy didn’t obey her. She stood with her hips shifted to the left, her right hand grasping the upper part of her left arm. Clearly, she didn’t want to be anywhere near our mother. She always blamed her for Daddy’s deployment, and even I didn’t appreciate Momma’s joyous attitude in his absence.
Miss Augustine huffed beside Momma as she cast a disapproving eye on the eldest Belle child. I wanted to intervene, but it would do me no good. No good at all. When Momma and Jeopardy tied up, it was best to stay out from between them. That had been Daddy’s advice. You could just sense they were on a collision course for a fight, and I was getting nervous for Jeopardy. But then Momma smiled, her pretty face undeterred by her daughter’s disobedience.
In a sweet, cheery voice, she said to Jeopardy, “There are two baskets of peaches on the kitchen counter. One goes to Mrs. Hendrickson and the other to Dr. Leland. Collect a quarter for each basket, or twenty cents if they want to return the baskets. You can take Loxley’s red wagon if you think you can’t carry them both.”
“All the way to Leland’s? That’s over a mile away,” Jeopardy whined.
“And the sooner you get started, the sooner you’ll get back, but please tidy up before you leave. I can’t have you leaving the house looking like you stepped out of a pigpen, Jeopardy Belle.”
Jeopardy was ready to argue about it, I could tell. This was my chance to defuse the situation and save my sister from further humiliation. “I’ll go with you, Jeopardy. I’d like to return Mrs. Hendrickson’s paperbacks anyway.”
“No!” Momma said sharply before the smile returned to her face. “Miss Hogue and I will need your help with canning that bushel of peaches in the sink, Harper. Why don’t you start peeling them while Jeopardy runs this errand for me? And of course, you’ll keep ten cents for yourself, Jeopardy, dear. I’m sure you’ll want to buy paper and postage stamps for all those letters.”
Jeopardy’s face lit up, and she scampered back up the steps to brush her hair and her teeth and maybe change her dress. I was disappointed that I couldn’t go, but at least I would be in the kitchen near the open window and not traipsing around in this heat. Five minutes later, as the ladies were deeply immersed in their radio program, Jeopardy loaded two baskets onto Loxley’s Radio Flyer and headed down the lane. She didn’t say much except goodbye, and I could see from the kitchen window that she was taking the shortcut through the woods. Good for her. The trip wouldn’t be quite a mile long, and she’d have plenty of shade. I noticed she carried her favorite stick, just in case she needed to knock a snake in the head. We had plenty of black snakes around here. Summerleigh wasn’t that far from Dog River, and the snakes got stirred up even more on hot days like this one.
After the radio program, Momma and Miss Augustine came into the kitchen. I assumed they were going to help me peel the peaches, but Momma had her hat on. “I’m taking Miss Augustine home. She has an appointment she forgot all about, but I will be back in a few minutes to help you.” As soon as she opened the screen door, she paused. “It looks like it might storm soon. Have Loxley come inside, Harper. We don’t want her to get sick, and you know she’s prone to keep a runny nose in the summer.”
“Alright, Momma. Could you check on Jeopardy? She might get caught in the rain, and I see lightning just up the road.”
Her face tightened, and her eyes flashed at me. “I am sure she’s on her way home now, Harper. Don’t worry about Jeopardy; she’s a resourceful young lady.”
�
�I don’t know how resourceful she’ll be in a rainstorm,” I whispered to her back as she stepped off the porch with Miss Augustine’s bulky frame in tow. I washed my hands in the sink and went looking for Loxley. I hadn’t seen her all morning, and finding her would be a chore. I didn’t need another chore; I had a sneaking suspicion that I would be canning this bushel of peaches by myself.
“Loxley, come in the house. It’s going to rain!” I yelled at the edge of the yard. I didn’t have time to go wandering through the woods. “Loxley! You hear me? Come back to the house!” I waited around and didn’t hear a thing. With a sigh of exasperation, I walked to the front of the house just in case. Loxley generally didn’t venture into the unkempt front yard; she had a great fear of rodents, and there were usually plenty scrabbling around out here. But she did have a tendency to wander…especially when accompanied by one of her invisible friends.
“Loxley!” I didn’t see hide nor hair of her, but after listening for a moment I heard her voice coming from the house. Sing-songy, like she was playing a hand-clapping or jump rope game with someone, but who? Jeopardy was gone, Addison was down in the bed, and here I was. You sure couldn’t play a hand-clapping game with a ghost, could you? I would have to go fetch her and bring her downstairs before Momma got back home. Momma didn’t like us to “lurk around up there,” as she described it. Some of the floors were spongy and might give way if you trod on them, she warned us repeatedly.
I went around to the back door and through to the kitchen and peeked in on Addison. No, she was still there, sleeping in her bed. I walked back through the Great Room to the parlor and then up the first set of stairs. Suddenly, I heard footsteps running away from me.
“Loxley? Please don’t make me chase you.”
I waited, but she never came down the stairs. With an exasperated sigh, I climbed the steps. The footsteps returned, only this time they weren’t running away from me but coming up behind me. “Jeopardy?” I turned, expecting to see her returned from her errand, but there was no one there. My skin suddenly felt icy cold as if I had stepped into an icehouse. My stomach did a double-clutch, but I didn’t wait to ponder it. I scampered up the stairs away from the mysterious sounds in search of Loxley.
The Belles of Desire, Mississippi Page 3