Whispers in the Wind

by Veronica Giolli

  Quickly looking at him, Sunny said, “Wouldn’t do any good. Not in his territory. It was the Wentworth Reservation, where he grew up.” She shrugged one shoulder. “The tribal police are all his good buddies.”

  Barry picked at the label on his bottled beer. “I don’t see how they can look the other way.”

  “But they do.” Rita’s cat, Floyd, rubbed against her legs. She lifted him and stroked his silky fur. “They always do.”

  “Anyway, Gina got away. She ran a half mile to the store to call me,” said Sunny. “Her lip was cut and she had blood all over. By the time I picked them up her eye was turning the color of eggplant and puffed up. She looked terrible.”

  “I was young but I remember when you brought them to the house. She held little Tommy in her arms. His hair was all matted and their clothes were filthy. They were a mess,” Rita said.

  “He didn’t hit Tommy, did he?” asked Barry.

  “No, Gina told me he never did. She and Tommy stayed with us for a few weeks. Jesse began to call. He finally convinced her to come back home. He promised he’d straighten up. What a joke! I didn’t like him then; I don’t like him now.”

  “I wish we could have talked her into leaving him for good,” Rita said. “But Gina was love blind. She believed him, and gave birth to his two boys.”

  Her spirit sagging, Sunny said, “We can’t change anything now.” She shook her head sadly. “We better get going back to the motel. It’s getting late.”

  “Mom, why don’t you two stay here? I can go to Lee’s apartment for a few days. I don’t mind.”

  “I bet you don’t.” They grinned at each other.

  Sunny turned back to Barry who seemed preoccupied. “Well, do you want to stay here?” She stared at him. “Is it okay with you?”

  “Fine,” He twirled his beer in his hands. The cold sweat from the bottle had made a ring on the tablecloth.

  Rita packed some clothes and showed her mother where she kept the linens. “I’ll need a ride. Lee has my car.”

  Barry said, “Sure. I’ll drive you.” Rita picked up Floyd, hugged him, and left with Barry.

  The cat took over Sunny’s lap. Eyebrows squeezed together, she shook her head in concentration. “What is it about his cousin, Louis? There’s something I ought to be remembering. They call him Moochie, ’cause that’s what he does. He mooches food, tools, money—whatever’s moochable. Hence the name. I can’t put my finger on it, and it’s driving me crazy. Well, I better call work and let them know what’s going on.” She placed Floyd on the floor. He stiffened his legs, looked up and gave her a short angry meow, which made her laugh. Because of the thoughts that kept coming to her, she needed to get ahold of her supervisor, Carol.

  Sunny explained some of what she’d learned and added, “It might take longer than I thought. I’m having strange feelings about this.”

  “Well, your instincts are usually right on. Go ahead, stay awhile and finish up with the loose ends,” Carol said.

  “Thanks.” Sunny hung up.

  By the time Barry returned, it was arranged for Sunny to stay in Reno to look into things. “Carol said they could handle everything for me. I have vacation time on the books,” she relayed to Barry.

  “Good. You know I’m leaving after the funeral. I assume you’re staying?”

  She nodded. “I want to poke around a little.”

  “I understand. That investigator’s instinct is coming out in you.”

  “Maybe so. There are too many things out of order, and I feel I owe it to Gina.”

  Still somewhat upset with him, the words tumbled out. “You can go back to your bar buddies. Stay out all night without a nagging wife wondering where you are and who you’re with. I won’t have to see you hung over or smell your stinky booze.”

  He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to leave you upset and here alone.”

  She could tell she’d hurt him. “I won’t be alone. I have Rita. You know you clear your throat every time you get nervous. Are you lying to me about anything?”

  “No, I’m not lying. I’ve never been with anyone else, if that’s what you’re suggesting.” The veins in his neck bulged. He walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a soda. “I know you want a divorce, Sunny, but I don’t. Because I drink doesn’t mean I don’t love you. It didn’t bother you when we first met. You were right there beside me, chugging one for one.”

  Sunny’s face felt flushed. “You’re throwing over ten years ago in my face now? Okay, I got a little tipsy.”

  “A little tipsy? You were in the parking lot puking your guts out. I brought wet paper towels to clean you up. And if I remember right, you ruined your new dress.”

  “Yes, but I quit right after that, didn’t I? I’m sick and tired of fighting about this all the time. It’s always about the same thing. Your drinking.”

  “Sunny, stop pacing and sit, or stand still.”

  She leaned forward and gripped the edge of the table where he sat. “You’re out with your buddies more than you’re with me.” Her eyes narrowed. “Even my friends say if you loved me you’d stop.”

  Barry jumped up, pounded his fist on the table and looked her in her eye. “I don’t give a damn what your friends say. They’re not paying our bills. It’s not about your friends, relatives, or even Rita. It’s only about us, you and me.”

  “Once the love is gone, Barry, I won’t get it back. When I’m done, I’m done. I don’t know what to do about the drinking anymore. I can’t live like this. It brings back memories of me growing up. My dad was a sloppy drunk. I watched him fall flat on his face on the living room carpet, or sit in the rocker sobbing, and saying the same thing over and over again. I won’t put up with it. I can’t.”

  Still standing, he studied his hangnail.

  “Are you even listening to me?” She hated when he tuned her out like that. “Do you hear me talking to you? Answer me! I hate that about you.” Fists clinched, nails digging into her palm, she glared at him. Her voice reached a higher pitch. “Barry, answer me.”

  “Why?” he asked softly, nudging the cat, so he could sit in the chair. “Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind. You have all the questions and all the answers. Can’t this wait until we get home? You have other things you need to deal with first. Okay?”

  Everything felt like it was breaking inside her. She needed time to think, time to calm down, and time to ask more questions about Gina. “You’re right. I can’t do this now. It’s too much.”

  “Sunny, please, don’t make yourself sick. We’ll work it out.” He reached out and touched her sleeve. This time she didn’t try to pull away.

  She turned to him with misty eyes. “Promise you’ll think about us when you go home, all right?”

  “I will. I don’t want to lose you.”

  She grabbed a tissue and wiped her nose. “It’s not what I want either.”

  A few hours later, she’d calmed down and composed herself. Both were in the living room watching television when she announced, “I forgot I have to go to the store to get a few things.” Picking up her coat, she paused at the door. “You don’t have to go. It won’t take me long.”

  “No, I’ll drive you.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  At the grocery store, Barry was pushing the cart when Sunny stopped and reached for a can of Folgers coffee. A familiar voice behind them drew her attention. Sunny turned and came face-to-face with Eva and Gerald.

  “Well, what do we have here?” said Gerald. He shook Barry’s hand and smiled as his eyes roved over Sunny.

  Eva wrenched hard on his arm. “Let’s go!” she snarled.

  Gerald stepped back. “All right, calm down. See ya.” They walked away.

  Sunny giggled. “There goes the odd couple.”

  Barry agreed and looked at his watch. “I didn’t realize how late it’s getting. I’m hungry.”

  He pulled his knit cap over his ears. “Let’s go to that pizza place across from the mall.”
/>   “Hey, while we’re there, I want to go in and see if they have anything for Gina’s final fashion statement.”

  Barry and Sunny crossed the parking lot. The wind had picked up and snow flurries swirled around them. Heads down, they picked up the pace and headed toward the yellow-and-red building.

  Inside Santo’s Pizza Parlor, Barry picked up a pepperoni and sausage pizza with mushrooms and olives, paid, and brought it to the table. “Is Eva always such a bitch?” he wanted to know.

  “Always. Who knows why? She’s just nuts. She does things different than most people, and takes no responsibility. Likes to stir up shit. That’s why we call her Evil Eva.” She handed him a napkin to wipe the cheese off his chin. “As long as I’ve known her she’s been a total bitch.”

  Finished, he tossed the napkin on the table. “I think she’s jealous of Gina and Rita, and even you.”

  “I don’t know why. They had this love-hate relationship going. You know, she and Gina never even knew about each other until ten years ago, when Gina married Jesse. They had the same father, different mothers. Eva is the oldest, by two years. They ended up in foster homes at opposite ends of Washoe County.

  “Eva met Jesse and was with him first. It got complicated because then Jesse met Gina and fell like a ton o’ bricks. I guess Eva never forgave him … or Gina, for that matter.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No, it was a long time ago, but it seems like Eva’s more in love with him than ever.”

  He took a big bite. “Wow.”

  They finished their meal and scooted out of the booth. As they exited Santo’s they passed Eva and Gerald coming in the door.

  Sunny couldn’t believe it; Gerald and Evil Eva right in front of her. Again. Had they followed her and Barry? Sunny wanted to punch her lights out.

  Eva smiled sweetly. “Hello again.”

  Gerald half nodded.

  Sunny and Barry ignored her and kept on walking. Outside, he whispered, “Now I know she has a screw loose.”

  At the mall across the way they visited a few boutiques, holding up one outfit after another. None seemed suitable, though, and Sunny, knowing how Barry hated shopping, especially in women’s clothing shops, cut it short.

  Sunny shook her head as they left the bright lights of the mall. “I thought we could just run in, find the perfect outfit, and be done.”

  “What kind of outfit are you looking for?” asked Barry, unlocking the passenger side door for Sunny.

  “I don’t even know,” answered Sunny. “But I’ll recognize the right one when I see it.”

  The snowflakes had stopped falling. The clouds were high and the air windy and soothing.

  They burst out laughing. It reminded Sunny of their early years together and how happy they’d been. It could still be that way, except for his drinking, which had gotten worse these last few years. She missed those moments and was eager to have those times back again.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Sunny’s thoughts tumbled down different paths as the moonlight glowed through the window. It was nine o’clock. She had a lot to do after the day’s events. She planned to write about all of it. Even though she was overwhelmed, she continued recording in her notebook, contemplating what she’d learned. This would include talking to the people who’d been at the party. She kept a journal on everything. She thought about the phone conversation and how she should have made Gina listen to her.

  Barry settled in front of the TV, engrossed in Death Wish 3 with Charles Bronson.

  At ten thirty, she said, “I’m too tired to think. It’s late. I’m going to bed.”

  He got up. “Yeah, my movie’s over. Bronson won again, just like last time. I think I’ll go to bed too. Want me to get the lights?”

  Before she could reply, the phone rang. She snatched up the receiver and listened, hearing only a dial tone. She shrugged. “Another wrong number.”

  Her intuition was on high alert, but she couldn’t figure this out. A wrong number was what these calls were. For now, she didn’t know what was going on. It was all too hard. She missed her friend, her Gina.

  WEDNESDAY MORNING

  It was eight thirty when they got out of bed. Exhausted from the day before, they slept in later than usual. Barry sat at the kitchen table and read the newspaper while Sunny put the coffee on and fixed breakfast.

  “Maybe we should buy a new car,” he said. “The Celica GT-S costs nine thousand dollars.”

  She put the fried eggs, bacon, and toast on the table. “We don’t need a new one.”

  “How long are they going to keep writing about Reagan’s movie with the chimp?” He looked up over the paper. “Oh, look, here’s Gina’s obituary.”

  “Let me see.” She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned over to read:

  RENO GAZETTE-JOURNAL OBITUARIES

  Gina Henry Wilson, 33, died Sunday at her residence. A Nevada native, she was born February 28, 1952. Mrs. Wilson worked for Sierra Pacific Power Company. She was a longtime Reno resident. Survivors include her husband, Jesse Martin Wilson, sons, Tommy Henry, Martin and Patrick Wilson, and sister, Eva Marshall, all from Reno.

  Visitation and funeral details to follow.

  Barry looked up. “Hey, you okay?”

  Sunny’s tears fell on his shoulders. “It doesn’t seem possible.” She moved to the counter, wiped her face with a paper towel, and poured him another cup of coffee as Rita came though the back door.

  Poor Rita, Sunny thought. She’d loved Gina as much as anyone. Sunny felt she needed to be strong for her. But right at that moment she didn’t know how. She wiped at her eyes so Rita wouldn’t see them.

  “Hi. I forgot my makeup,” said Rita, throwing her purse and jacket on the chair.

  “Coffee?” Sunny asked, turning and grabbing the coffeepot.

  “No thanks. I’ll just have toast. Mom, can you believe Jesse called me at Lee’s? He said he wanted to be sure I was okay and to tell me his uncle is having a special sweat in Gina’s honor, after the funeral.”

  “Why would he call you at Lee’s?”

  “I don’t know. But it made me uncomfortable. He sounded strange. I felt like there was something else he wanted to say.”

  “What’s the matter with him?” asked Barry, handing Rita the paper. “Gina’s obituary.”

  She read the article and tried to nibble her toast. Rita blanched, her toast dropping onto the table. “It’s so hard. Makes me want to throw up.” She pushed away and got up. “I’m going to go take a shower. Then we’ll go to the mall.”

  Sunny joined her husband. Minutes later, a loud noise echoed from the bathroom.

  Barry squinted up from his coffee. “I guess she dropped her shampoo.”

  A shout came from the hallway. “Mom, hurry, come here!”

  Sunny pushed her chair back and darted toward the bathroom. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  Steam covered the bathroom mirror as water cascaded down the shower wall. Breathless, her daughter leaned with her back against the sink, wrapped in her pink terry-cloth robe, her wet hair dripping onto the bath mat.

  “What’s the matter? Tell me, are you okay?” Sunny reached across her daughter and turned the water off.

  “When I was in the shower, I felt a cold breeze. I got out and opened the bathroom door to see if the window was open. It wasn’t. All of a sudden, the picture Gina gave me fell to the floor. As I bent to pick it up, a draft of frigid air brushed across my shoulders and around my neck, wrapping itself along my body. It scared the heck out of me.” She started to shake. “What’s going on, Mom?”

  “It’s Gina’s spirit. She wants your attention.”

  “If it’s Gina, then do you think she might have come to Jesse too? I’m going to call him to see if anything strange has happened at his place,” Rita said. Calming herself as she dried her hair, she got dressed, hurried, and phoned to ask him.

  Sunny didn’t think talking to Jesse was a good idea. She didn’t know why; it
was just a feeling she had. But she held her tongue and went into the kitchen. She sat at the table and explained to her husband what had happened in the bathroom.

  A few moments later, Rita hung up and relayed her conversation with Jesse to them. “Jesse said he hasn’t seen or felt any presence. He told me I needed to smudge the four corners outside of my house with sweet sage to keep her spirit away.”

  “I thought that was to cleanse your home and body, and keep away bad spirits, not Gina’s. I’m going out to have a cigarette.” Barry set the newspaper down and went outside.

  “What do you think, Mom?”

  Sunny had mixed emotions about the smudge. In one way she wanted Gina to come to her, because she needed to find out the reason behind her suicide. Also, she wondered what was with the abrasion on Gina’s wrist.

  “Do you have sage? Or do we need to pick some?” asked Sunny.

  “I have some, but I don’t know if I want to keep her away.”

  “She’s troubled; some spirits hang around because they can’t accept death or have some unfinished business. I think hers is the latter, but she needs to start her journey. We’ll pray for light for her spirit. Do a loving cleansing of your home. Then maybe we’ll know what to do.”

  Once again Floyd meowed, jumped up, and made himself comfortable on Sunny’s lap. She petted him as she told Rita, “Why don’t you sew little prayer pouches instead and put them in all the rooms? That way you can bless both the inside of your house and her spirit. I’ll help you hang them.”

  “That’s a better idea. What do I need?” Rita had paper and pen ready. “We’ll get it while we’re out getting something for Gina. We’ll buy white cotton material. And small remnants of red, yellow, black, and white, for the four directions. Usually, you use colors according to the person’s illness, but this time it’s different. It’s for her soul. We’ll need tobacco to fill the pouches. Also heavy thread.”

  Sunny had practiced this form of spirit healing for decades. It was a common tribal practice. She hoped it would help Gina’s suffering spirit, also help her on her journey. Sunny was raised with these ceremonies. She had taught some but not all of them to Rita and certainly not the ones used to help a spirit travel to the other side.