A Timely Vision (2 page)

She lived on the land her ancestors had settled some two hundred or so years ago. Miss Mildred traced her lineage back to a French pirate who’d sailed the Caribbean but decided to settle down on the narrow island that eventually became known as the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Duck is at the northern end of that hundred-mile strip of land.

“You should let Althea at the library record all those things you remember,” I told her as I poured a glass of lemonade. “All that history is part of this area.”

“I know,” she said, as she always did. “I will someday, when I get old.”

There was no convincing Miss Mildred that being ninety-two made her old. I thought about it when I was sixteen, never said anything, of course, and finally stopped thinking about it altogether at twenty-five. She didn’t see herself that way. Who was I to argue the point? Besides, since I’d turned thirty, I’d begun to understand what she meant.

I tossed back half of the lemonade in a single thirsty gulp and went to join her. “Let’s sit down, Miss Mildred. What are you looking for?”

We sat down on the old burgundy brocade sofa that had occupied too much space in the shop for too long. I should’ve gotten rid of it years before, but it was such a cozy place to sit and talk. Keeping it meant I had to occasionally put up shelves around it to hold extra merchandise that came my way, but I didn’t mind. I couldn’t bear to part with it.

“I’m looking for my mother’s watch. I loaned it to my sister, Lizzie, last week. I’ve called her, but there’s no answer.” Her prim little mouth drew up even further. A wealth of cobweb-fine lines spun out along her face. “You
know
how she is, Dae.”

I
knew
how Miss Mildred thought Miss Elizabeth was: irresponsible, reckless, careless.

“She’s irresponsible, reckless. She’s always been careless.” Miss Mildred listed her younger sister’s faults.

I would’ve asked
why
she’d loaned the watch to her if she felt that way, but I’d known the two of them all of my life. They’d been arguing since the day Miss Elizabeth took Johnny Simpson away from Miss Mildred in high school.

My grandparents had told me the sisters were never friends again after that even though Miss Mildred had married Frank Mason and done quite well for herself. Wild Johnny Simpson had left Miss Elizabeth crying and alone for the rest of her life. She never remarried, and Miss Mildred never forgave her.

So I didn’t ask. I sipped my lemonade and let her run through the gamut of Miss Elizabeth’s faults and vices.

“She’s always thought she was better than me because we both ran for Miss Duck that year and
she
was chosen. Really, I think she let the judge feel her up a little, if you know what I mean. Otherwise I’m sure he’d have chosen
me
.”

“This doesn’t really sound like you’ve
lost
your mother’s watch,” I finally interrupted. “But I’ll be happy to go by Miss Elizabeth’s house and see if she’s okay. I can check on the watch while I’m there.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’s fine.” Miss Mildred waved away the idea that her sister
wouldn’t
be fine with an impatient hand. “I can’t help but feel that Mama’s watch is lost. I need your help, Dae. I know you’re busy being mayor and all, but surely you can spare me a few minutes.”

I didn’t remind her that this was one of the biggest days in Duck. At least twenty thousand people were here for the holiday. They were looking for food and someplace to shop. Some of them might be about ready to run in and buy my treasures.

I glanced around at my collection of odds and ends, the precious and the ordinary. They had taken me a lifetime to find and might take a lifetime to sell the way things had been going the last few months. Sometimes I thought I should get rid of all of it and take to the open sea, as my Duck ancestors would have done. But visiting Gramps’s old fishing boat always changed my mind. I was never crazy about the smell of fish.

I sighed and brought my thoughts back to Miss Mildred. It couldn’t hurt to oblige her. Later, I could check in on her sister and find out what was going on. Miss Elizabeth, at the sweet young age of ninety, had been known to wander the beaches late at night and had often been escorted home by the police. “Okay.” I took a deep breath and turned to face Miss Mildred on the sofa. “Give me your hands.”

“I remember the first time you did this for me.” Miss Mildred smiled. “You were such a pretty child. I was looking for my purse, and your mama told me to give you my hand and you’d help me find it. I didn’t quite believe it then. But I do now.”

Miss Mildred put her rough, dry hands in mine, her short nails dirty and cracked. She refused to wear gloves when she gardened, which she did a lot of the time. “Think about the watch.” I closed my eyes and let the images form in my mind. I wasn’t really expecting to see anything since the watch wasn’t
really
missing. That seemed to be the way my gift worked.

But an image came seconds later, making me gasp. It was a gold wristwatch with tiny diamonds where the numbers should be. It was on a thin, wrinkled arm, presumably Miss Elizabeth’s.

I opened my eyes and shook all over for a second. I’d come to think of the shaking as a reaction to being in someone else’s mind. There’s not much literature or research done on this kind of thing, so I had to go with what I knew.

“Did you find my watch?”

“I think so, yes.” I let go of her hands and felt the link between us fade. “I think your sister is wearing it.” I wasn’t sure why that image would come to me since the watch wasn’t
officially
lost. Maybe Miss Mildred
feeling
it was lost was enough for that part of me to latch on to it.

“Maybe you could drop by her place, if you wouldn’t mind. I’d like to have Mama’s watch back. She left it to
me
, you know. Not
Lizzie
.”

I smiled as I helped her to her feet. “I’m sure your mother gave her something nice too.”

“Not as nice as that watch.” Miss Mildred patted my hand. “Thank you, Dae. You know, I voted for you, and you’ve done a very good job for us.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Mildred. I’ll see if Miss Elizabeth will let me bring the watch back to you.”

I was blessed with a string of customers after she left. I was always amazed at what visitors would buy and take home with them for souvenirs. Amazed
and
frustrated when the things I thought were most valuable were completely ignored for touristy lamps made from shells and little lighthouses that said “Outer Banks.” Most of the lighthouses didn’t even look like the ones you could find here—
and
they were made in China.

“Looks like you’ve got a good crowd,” Trudy Devereaux observed as she sauntered in from the Curves and Curls Beauty Spa next door. Trudy was showing off her signature tan with a short white dress that left her shoulders and most of her back bare. Of course, her pink nails and platinum blond hair were perfect, as always.

“Yeah, they finally found me.” I watched one woman, badly sunburned, pick up one of my favorite pieces, a sugar bowl that looked like the Cape Hatteras lighthouse. She’d already picked it up once and put it down only to circle around and come back to it again.

“Lucky
you
! My place is completely empty. You’d think
someone
would want to have
something
done! It
is
the Fourth and everyone’s off of work.
And
I have that bikini wax special going on.”

The very idea made me wince. “Maybe it’ll get better later.”

“Maybe.” She didn’t sound too convinced. “But I think I might as well close up for the day and go to the beach like everyone else. A nice pitcher of margaritas sounds pretty good.”

“Yeah. That sounds good.” I was distracted, watching the woman with the sugar bowl start toward the cash register with the treasure. I wasn’t sure whether I was happy or not. It had been in Missing Pieces for a long time. I’d found it at a flea market one weekend when I was visiting Charleston. It had called to me just like the pink rhinestone heart pin.

“Are you worried about her shoplifting that thing?” Trudy asked, no doubt noticing my preoccupation with the shopper.

“No. Of course not.” I glanced away from the sugar bowl to Trudy’s unhappy face. “I was interested to see if she’d buy it.”

“You really love all this old junk. You’re one of the missing pieces. You hate to lose any of them, don’t you?”

“Don’t be silly.” The shopper caught my eye again as she picked up another treasure, a rosewood music box that had once belonged to Theodosia Burr, the daughter of the notorious Aaron Burr. This woman had an eye for the good stuff. “How would I make any money if I never sold anything?”

“Not being mayor of Duck, that’s for sure. What do they pay you? Your grandfather said it was like a thousand dollars a year.”

“Plus expenses,” I added. “Anyway, nobody is mayor of Duck because they want to get rich.”

“But in the meantime, you want to make sure all your precious junk goes to the right people, huh?”

“Something like that.” The shopper had snagged the music box too and was coming toward me down the center aisle with both items.

“I don’t know what you’re worried about, Dae. You know how this junk seems to find you. There’ll be plenty more where this came from.” Trudy sighed and glanced at her nails. “I’m gonna go close up. I’ll talk to you later when you can think about something besides your babies here in the shop. Bye.”

I was glad she left. It sounds crazy, but I like to make sure the
really
important merchandise goes to a good home. I have a knack for finding things, but that doesn’t mean I ignore them once I find them. My important treasures might not be treated right if that happened. I looked at it as part of the responsibility that went along with my gift. My mother taught me that when I was growing up.

My mother also used to say if there was a penny anywhere on the ground five miles around me, I’d find it. She was right. Not everything I found had great value. Sometimes a piece of junk was just a piece of junk.

“This is the most
interesting
piece.” The shopper carefully placed the lighthouse sugar bowl on the counter. “I’ve never seen
anything
like it. And this music box! You know, I swear I’ve seen it before. Where did you get it?”

I looked at her. Assessing her, I guess. Hoping she’d be the one to take good care of these important items. The treasures I sold mattered to me, and they all needed good homes. For most of them, there came a time when they had to leave me. That’s how we all survived.

I told her the story of how I came to have the sugar bowl and the music box. She listened in rapt attention until I’d finished. “I’m glad you like them. I think you’ll give them a good home.”

“Of course I will.” She smiled, her even white teeth too bright to be natural. “How much do I owe you?”

I quoted her an astounding price, probably an
indecent
price, but one I knew she’d pay. I could see it in her eyes. When she handed me her Visa card, she met my third qualification for ownership. I didn’t charge high prices for everything, but the really special stuff was too important to let go cheap.

“I hope you enjoy them as much as I have.” I carefully wrapped her pieces in white tissue paper. “I’ve had them for a while. I’m glad someone finally noticed them.”

Of course she gave me that you’re-a-crazy-person look, but that was okay. She’d passed my tests. I didn’t mind what she thought of me.

The other people in the shop bought trinkets, nothing of great value. Some of the things I collect for Missing Pieces are donations from people who want to get rid of stuff, like after the church rummage sale. I never develop feelings for those things, not like for the ones I find.

Once all the customers had left, I looked at the UPS packages I’d picked up outside. Adding the UPS franchise to Missing Pieces was a way to bring in some extra money. There weren’t a lot of shipments to and from Duck, but when they came through, they came here. I was proud of that.

I looked up from the boxes as I heard the shop door open. A scruffy young man with what my grandfather would call a roving eye walked in and asked about a job. I didn’t recognize him as being a regular shopper or a Duck resident, but there was something about him that intrigued me. I shrugged it off after he asked me if something was wrong and I realized I’d been staring at him for too long. I told him I was sorry but I didn’t have anything for him. He smirked and left the shop.

“It can’t get much hotter out there.” My grandfather came in right after him. “Who was that?”

“I don’t know. Just somebody looking for a job.”

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a red rag before he replaced his straw hat on his thick white hair. “Lots of shoppers in Duck. Have you sold anything?”

“A few things.” I couldn’t keep it from him. “The lighthouse sugar bowl and the rosewood music box.”

“I hope you got what they’re worth.”

I quoted him the price, and he whistled through his teeth. “You knew I wouldn’t let them go for less.”

“I knew.” He hugged me as he reached the counter. “Ready for your close-up, Miss Mayor?”

“I suppose so.” I smoothed down my shorts and picked up the oversized mayor’s coat again. “I don’t think they had this in mind for a woman mayor. I think the town council might need to consider changing this tradition.”

He held one side of the coat for me. “You mean you should get special treatment because you’re a
woman
? I thought you hated that kind of thing.”

“No. I should get a smaller coat because this one could fit Councilman Wilson, all six foot four, three hundred pounds of him. It’s a
little
big on me by almost a foot and two hundred pounds.”

“Come on now! The council had it tailored for you. It’s not
that
big.”

I wrapped the coat around me, flipped up the red ribbons and gold coins, then faced him. The sleeves were past my wrists, and my torso was swallowed by the coat. “I think they thought the first mayor would be a man, Gramps.”