As the World Churns (36 page)

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Authors: Tamar Myers

Tags: #Mystery

BOOK: As the World Churns
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    “But you’re poorer than a church mouse, for heaven’s sake. The only money you had was your pitiful municipal salary and the allowance I gave you.”

    “You see, Yoder, you don’t know anything about prison life. Payment doesn’t always have to be in cash.”

    “Skip right ahead, dear, and tell me how you managed to make it this far. I know you didn’t walk. You once rented a dolly and had Susannah push you all over the state fair.”

    “You always exaggerate, Yoder; it was the county fair. I was wearing my white buckskin shoes. What would you have me do? Get them muddy? And to answer your stupid question, I just stopped in at a Food Mart and got some self-tanning lotion and dark hair dye, ducked into the men’s room, and presto. Of course the tan took a couple of hours in all. How do you like it?”

    “It ill-becomes you.”

    “I’m not sure what that means, but I’ll take that as a compliment.”

    “I knew you would. What about the other guy?”

    “He was a real Hispanic.
An illegal.
Scared out of his wits too.
He did everything I said-well, as much as he understood.”

    “Where is he now?” I gasped. “You
didn’t
, did you?”

    “Of course I did. I’m not the fool you think I am; I told him to vamoose as soon as it occurred to me to come here to Doc’s.”

    “So you didn’t kill him?”

    One of Melvin’s eyes glared at me, while the other appeared to glance merrily around the room. “I don’t kill people just for fun, Yoder. They have to really tick me off-you get what I mean?”

    “Is that a threat, dear?”

    Elvina slapped her shrunken cheeks in maternal distress. “Children, please!”

    As distressed as I was, I wanted nothing more than to slap Melvin’s cheeks until
they
were shrunken. Alas, that was neither the Christian, nor the practical, thing to do. I swallowed a piece of my tongue and got back to business.

    “How did you hook up with this guy, and how did you get back here?”

    “Fortune smiled on me, Yoder. It always does. José was standing outside the Food Mart, waiting for somebody-any-body-to come by who might need a worker. He said he’d done
this lots
of times. And sure enough, along comes this old biddy in a truck pulling a cow trailer. She hired us on the spot. She didn’t ask us any questions, and I didn’t ask her how she managed to get that Holstein up on the trailer by herself. Anyway, when she made that left turn on to Route 12, I nearly crapped my pants-sorry, Mama-and when she turned into your place, I really did.”

    
“TMI!”

    “Huh? You calling me names, Yoder?”

    “It means ‘too much information.’ Please, move right along to Doc.”

    “Yeah, well, that man may have had a pet dinosaur when he was a boy, but he’s no man’s fool. Even though I didn’t speak a word to him, he spotted me right off. He froze all up and started walking backwards. So then I
did
start to say something-like I wasn’t going to hurt him, or some such-and he ran. That’s when I picked up the shovel, chased him down, and gave him a good crack.
Crack
-ha! That’s actually what it sounded like.”

    
“Why you miserable little mantis!
If I had a shovel right now- Get behind me, Satan!”

    “Are you blind, as well as stupid? I’m standing right in front of you.”

    “Indeed you are.
As is the Devil, who, by the way, is urging me to do you bodily harm.”
I took a deep breath, one which hardly felt cleansing.
“Back to your sordid story.
Did you spend your first night in the woods behind my house?”

    
“Yeah.
Yoder, you really should install a toilet in that fake outhouse of yours. Hey, how did you know?”

    “You were spotted by an Amish girl.”

    Elvina wrung her hands in the anguish only an inadvertently inhospitable mother can know. “You should have come straight to me, son. I keep a pair of fresh jammies laid out on your side of the bed-just in case.”

    
“Again with the TMI!”

    Both of Melvin’s eyes connected with mine for a split second. “Oh get off your high horse, Yoder. We don’t do anything wrong; we only cuddle. There’s nothing wrong with cuddling with your mama. After all, I did spend nine months inside her stomach.”

    “That would explain some things, dear; nine months of gastric juices are bound to have an effect.”

    “Yeah, Mama is pretty smart. Thanks for the compliment, Yoder. That’s the second time you’ve ever said anything nice to me.”

    “You’re welcome, I’m sure. Before you go out and chop wood for us poor, weak females, is there anything else you need to tell me tonight? Anything you might have left out? Any nocturnal omissions, as it were?”

    
“Nah.
You sure I need to chop wood? Can’t the three of us cuddle under a blanket or something?”

    “The ‘or something’ is that you chop. Put your shoulder to the grindstone, your head on the block, and chop, chop, chop.”

    “Dang it,” Melvin swore, and stomped off, slamming the door behind him.

    The house had barely stopped vibrating when Elvina turned to me. “Now what is it you’d
really
like to talk about, dear?”

    I jumped from the loveseat, a plan taking shape in my mind. “Let’s talk in the kitchen, Mama. I really don’t want him to hear some of the things I’m about to say, so I need to keep track of his whereabouts.”

    

    I picked a spot between the window and the stove. From where I stood, I could see my supposed brother grappling with an ax that was almost as large as he was. If he really applied himself to the task at hand, then I’d managed to borrow a chunk of valuable time. After all, the mantis I knew couldn’t cut balsa wood with a chainsaw.

    His mama seemed to have temporarily forgotten him. “Magdalena, sweetie, what is it?”

    “Do you love me?”

    “Of course I do!”

    “You gave me away.”

    
“Like I said earlier: I had no choice.
Things were different back then.”

    
“No doubt.
But you’ve had forty-eight years to acknowledge me. Why now suddenly? Is it to save him?”

    She had to get on her tiptoes in order to peer out the window.

    The object of her concern had managed to subdue the ax, and was now attempting to flail a stick of kindling into submission.

    “Melvin called me from Doc’s phone. He wanted me to run away with him and Susannah. Of course, I said no at first. Then he let it slip that he was meeting you here. I made him promise that he wouldn’t hurt you, but I couldn’t let it go at that. Magdalena, my little Melvin doesn’t always know what he’s doing.”

    “I’m sure the laundry room has a supervisor.”

    
“Always so quick with the tongue,
Magdalena
.
Just like me when I was your age.”

    “Stop saying how much we’re alike! Do you honestly expect me to welcome you as my mother with open arms, while you’re aiding and abetting a very wicked man?”

    “But I explained-”

    “You say that you love me? Then prove it!”

    “I’ll do anything! Oh, my baby, I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

    “If you want me to be your daughter-
Mama
-then you have to help me do what is best for my brother.”

    She dabbed at her eyes with a hanky pulled from her enormous bosom. (That was another thing I had
not
inherited from her.) “But he’s really a dear boy. He just needs help.”

    
“Exactly.
And that’s what I plan to do: help him. I’m a wealthy woman, you know. I can afford the best help in the world. After all, nothing is too good for my brother.” Even just for saying those words, I felt like a professional harlot on the Devil’s payroll.

    “Does that mean prison, Magdalena?”

    
In for a penny, in for an Enron executive’s fortune.
“No, of course not.
They have special programs for men who do away with their ministers. It’s called CHUMPS,” I added quickly. “It stands for Cretins Harming Unsuspecting Mennonite Pastors.”

    “What? I didn’t quite catch that.”

    “It’s not important, dear. What
is
important is that we get Melvin the best help available. Maybe someday he can rejoin society as a productive member. Then he and Susannah can live happily ever after.”

    Although the truth was that, despite my five hundred years’ worth of pacifist genes (the Stoltzfuses were every bit as inbred as the Yoders), I would sooner break both of Susannah’s kneecaps than have her run off with the husband from Hades. As for what I’d be willing to do to the mantis to stop this from happening-I shudder to think of it now.

    At any rate, Elvina began to do some serious thinking of her own. While on one hand this sexagenarian seemed to have all the wisdom of a teenager, and not a speck more, on the other hand, one couldn’t help but admire her capacity for unconditional love.

    What might that be like? I wondered. My own mother-by that I mean the woman who raised me-threatened to disown me if I attended the
University
of
Pennsylvania
like I wanted to. She also threatened to disown me if I was ever divorced. Surely an annulment from a bigamist counts as the same thing. In that case, since I was already disowned-albeit somewhat posthumously- why not adopt Elvina as a mother? It would mean a great deal to her, and need not have anything to do with my relationship to Melvin. Who knows, someday Elvina might even prefer me over her son. Wouldn’t that fix his wagon?

    “Look, Mama, we have to decide on something fast; my brother’s going to get tired of chopping wood pretty soon. Paul Bunyan he’s not.”

    “I know, sweetie, but what can we do? Your brother will never agree to institutionalization.”

    “He doesn’t have to,” I said. I grabbed her hand, which felt strangely familiar in the “flesh of my flesh” sappy sort of way. And yes, I was being manipulative. “We just need to find something to restrain him with. Maybe some clothesline or something.”

    “You’re not going to hurt him, are you?”

    “Whatever makes you say that, dear?” Then I spied what I needed-not to restrain the mantis, but to make him amenable to the idea. Pliable might even be a better word.

    “Here’s an apron,” Elvina whispered. “It has long strings.”

    “Perfect.” When everything was in order, I cracked open the window. “Yoo-hoo! Melvin!”

    He immediately ceased pretending to cut wood. “What
is
it, Yoder?”

    “Dear little brother, I need you to come in and kill a spider for me.” Believe
me,
the B-word did not easily fall from my lips. I fully intended to wash my own mouth out with soap when this was all over.
Antibacterial soap, of course.

    “Kill it yourself,” he yelled, but he was already headed for the house.

    Despite Elvina’s murmured protests, I met Melvin at the back door with a raised skillet-one which I did not hesitate to bring down soundly on his oversized noggin. My nemesis crumpled to the floor like a dropped marionette.

    “I can forgive you for almost anything, Melvin,” I said, feeling sick to my stomach, “but not for making me do this.”

    “What have you done to my son?” Elvina wailed, proving that we were indeed related.

    “Better safe than sorry, dear,” I said to my newfound mother. Then I selected a smaller pan from Doc’s formidable collection of cookware, and gave Elvina her own personalized whack on the head.

40

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