Blame It On The Mistletoe - A Novel of Bright's Pond (5 page)

"Are you going back to the Full Moon?"

Cliff looked at his watch. "Nah, Stella has dinner going by now so—"

This time I caught myself looking into his sky-blue eyes. My heart pumped as I felt a tingle down my spine.

"OK. Tell Stella I said hi."

"Why don't you come in and tell her yourself? I'm sure she'll invite you to supper."

"No, I think I'll just go on down to the café."

"To see Zeb?"

"Something like that."

"You know, Griselda, if it doesn't work out with you two, I—"

"Shhh. I know."

The café was crowded for Thursday night's meatloaf special. Zeb was at his post in the kitchen. I sat at the counter.

"Hey, Griselda," Studebaker said on his way past. "How's it going?"

"Hey, Stu. Not bad." I watched him sit next to Boris Lender. The two of them were always discussing something of importance in Bright's Pond. Boris Lender was our First Selectman—kind of a mayor. He had a paunch that I'm certain made it impossible for him to see his feet while standing, and he always wore gray suits and had misshapen rows of nubby, yellow teeth like corn kernels on the cob.

I saw Zeb poke his head up in the kitchen. "Come on, Dot, I got orders backing up."

"Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on. I'm getting it."

I wiggled two fingers toward him. "Hi, Zeb."

I saw a smile, but he quickly turned it into a frown. "Hey, Griselda."

Dot came by and took my order. She poured coffee without asking. No need. I always wanted coffee.

"I'll have the meatloaf."

"Everybody wants the meatloaf," Dot said.

I heard some grumbles from Zeb.

"I wish you two would hurry up and work it out," Dot said. "He's more miserable than a bear that woke up too soon for spring."

The meatloaf was as scrumptious as ever. I ate slowly hoping maybe Zeb would come out from the kitchen and talk to me. But once I realized that wasn't going to happen I decided to take the matter into my own hands.

"Hey, Stu," I called across and over the busy restaurant. "I went flying today with Cliff." I glanced at Zeb. His head popped up.

"Yeah, I'm taking my pilot's test in a couple of weeks," I said. "Cliff says I'm ready to solo."

Stu smiled and waved. "That's great, Griselda. You'll do fine."

"Yeah," Boris said. "You'll be flying loop-de-loops over town in no time."

That was when Zeb ventured out of the kitchen.

"No loop-de-loops," he said. "You'll get killed."

"Why, Zeb," I said. "You do care."

"Of course I care. You're the one who doesn't."

"Whoa," Dot said. "This is going to get good. Wait 'til I set these orders down. Be right back."

"What?" I said. "I do so care. I just—"

"Hold on." Zeb grabbed my hand. "Come on. Dot watch the stove."

"Wait a second. I haven't finished my meatloaf."

"Later." He gave a slight tug. "We need to talk."

Zeb took me outside. We stood under the streetlight so I figured everyone in the café could see just fine. Zeb and I grew up together, same schools from kindergarten through high school. We were high-school sweethearts and dated on and off ever since. Zeb was a good-looking man, not what you would call handsome in a movie-star way, but he was cute and if the light shown on him just right I could still see some of the teenager.

"If you care so much, how come you won't marry me?" Zeb said. "I keep asking and you keep turning me down."

"Well, before it was you who kept backing away from getting married. And besides, I never said I wouldn't marry you. I said I wanted to wait." I folded my arms against my chest as a chilly wind caught me. "For heaven's sake, Zeb, I haven't been alone in my own home for a year yet. I just want to know what it's like. I want to get to know me—Griselda Sparrow—better before I become Griselda Sewickey."

Zeb twisted his mouth. "So what you're saying is you will marry me?"

"I didn't say that. Not yet."

"Can we at least set a date—how about next week?"

"No, I'm getting my pilot's license, remember. And I haven't agreed to actually marry you yet. Besides this proposal is not very good. Your others were much better."

He made a noise and kicked at a pebble in the street.

"Fine. You let me know."

"We'll both know, Zeb. In the meantime, can we just go back to dating, hanging out together?"

"OK, Griselda. But it's driving me crazy."

I looked into Zeb's dark eyes. This time I felt a tingle that started at my toes and ran clear through my body like a shock. Maybe I was in love with him.

But before Zeb could kiss me, Mildred Blessing came screaming down the street in her police cruiser with siren and lights. She jumped out of her car.

"Come on, Griselda, I got to get you to Greenbrier. It's Agnes."

I looked at Zeb. He looked at me with that gaze I had seen a dozen times before. Someone else was suddenly more important than him.

"I'm sorry—I'm sorry, Zeb. I . . . I—"

"It's OK. Go. Your sister needs you. Apparently more than me."

He walked back to the café.

I climbed into the police cruiser.

"What's wrong? Is she all right? Asthma?"

Mildred stepped on the gas, and we took off toward Greenbrier.

"Not exactly. Might be a little more serious."

Then tell me! What is it?" I asked Mildred. "Is Agnes OK? Is it her asthma? Her heart?"

"No, no, nothing like that."

"Then what?"

"Your sister got into an argument with Haddie Grace."

"For that you come racing into town with sirens blaring and pulled me away from Zeb?"

"Haddie Grace kicked Agnes in the shins and then pulled her hair—made her bleed a little, Griselda. Agnes is awful upset. The police are there, and they want to arrest Haddie Grace."

"Well, what can I do? Let them handle it. Did Doctor Silver check her out?"

"Agnes said she needed you. Said she won't press charges but someone has to figure out what is going on over there. They can't have people getting beaten up."

I think I might have sucked all the oxygen out of the car I had taken such a deep breath. "I can't believe this. This is so stupid. Can't the Greenbrier staff deal with this?"

"They're doing what they can. But Agnes wanted you."

Mildred parked out front of the nursing home. I counted three other police cruisers and an ambulance.

"This is ridiculous."

Mildred and I ran down the hall to Agnes's room. A crowd of residents was gathered outside.

"Step aside, step aside," Mildred said. "Coming through."

"Agnes," I called. "What in tarnation is going on?"

"Oh, Griselda," Agnes called with her arms outstretched. "It was awful. I never seen another person act like that." She put her palm on her chest and panted. "It was so scary. But you're here now. Thank the Good Lord."

I saw Haddie Grace sitting on the visitor's chair flanked by two officers. This tiny woman overshadowed by burly men. It made me sick.

But Agnes had to be my first concern. A nurse I didn't recognize was patching up some scratches on her face.

"What happened?" I asked. "What started all this?"

"Oh, Griselda," Agnes looked at me through teary eyes. "Haddie Grace and I got into a fight. I don't even know how it happened and now they want to arrest her. Don't let them. I said I am not pressing charges. But they said it's up to the nursing home."

I moved toward Haddie who looked as scared as a new puppy lost on the turnpike. "Get away from her," I said to the officers.

Nurse Sally joined me. "See, I knew something was going to happen. They're gonna put Haddie Grace in the booby hatch if we don't figure this out."

"It's OK, Haddie Grace," I said. "It's OK." I patted her hand. She looked at me with wild eyes.

"I want to give her a sedative," Sally said. "But the cops won't let me give it to her. They want to bring her to jail for assaulting Agnes."

"That's ridiculous. Did you call Doctor Silver?"

"He's on his way," Sally said.

I looked at the officers. "Just wait until the doctor gets here. He's the medical director. He'll straighten it out."

"Well, I hope so, ma'am," said one of the cops. "Assault is a serious matter. Don't matter if your nineteen or ninety, you can't go beating people up."

Haddie started to cry.

"What happened exactly, Agnes?"

"It seems that her tricycle is missing. Someone stole it apparently, and she thought it was me. She called me Fatty Fatty Boombalattie and started to kick me. Look at me, my butt would swallow that trike."

The officers laughed. I shot them a look. They stopped laughing.

Mildred motioned for the officers to follow her into the hallway.

"This just isn't right," I said. "Haddie would never act like that. Something is terribly wrong."

"I'll say," Agnes said.

"Did you tell Mildred about what's been happening around here?"

"Yes. She said she'd help us get to the bottom of it. I'm beginning to think someone is poisoning us or something, making us all act weird, maybe piping mind-altering gas in the heating system or putting drugs in our oatmeal."

That was when Doctor Silver arrived. "Someone fill me in," he said.

Sally quickly told him what happened.

He went to Haddie Grace first, and checked her all over. He listened to her heart and asked her to breathe. "Don't worry, Haddie Grace, Sally is going to take you back to your room. Give her 2 milligrams of Valium.

"Yes, Doctor." Sally helped Haddie Grace up and gently helped her settle down into a wheelchair.

"I'm sorry, Agnes," Sally said. "We'll figure this out."

Doctor Silver took a look at Agnes. "She really scratched you up. Are you OK? Any pain? Any chest pains?"

"No, I'm OK, Doc," Agnes said. "I am just so worried about Haddie Grace. What made her get all crazy like that?"

"I don't know. I'm a little concerned too. I have to find out what's wrong with her before I'm forced to put her on the locked psychiatric ward."

"Oh, no, that'll kill her," Agnes said. "She doesn't belong there. It's got to be something else. Something physical."

Doctor Silver spent a few more minutes with Agnes. "Don't worry, I sent the cops away. We'll keep a tight leash on Haddie Grace for a while."

"Did that head shrinker find anything?" Agnes asked.

Doctor Silver shook his head. "No, nothing unexpected. That's why she's still on the floor."

"I'm scared, Doc," Agnes said. "It's not just Haddie acting weird."

"I heard," he said. "And it does have me concerned. But let's just get through this immediate crisis. I think if we find her tricycle she'll calm down."

"Can we just buy her a new one?" I asked.

"Won't work," Mildred said, returning to the room. "She'll know it's not hers. But I'm on it. I'll have the place searched. We'll find her tricycle."

Doctor Silver checked Agnes's blood pressure. "A little high but that's understandable."

"It was like being attacked by a mountain lion," Agnes said. "Who woulda thought that spry little woman could pounce like that?"

Doctor Silver shook his head. "I don't know. She has brittle bones from osteoporosis, but lately, it's like she's a teenager again. I'm ordering some tests to check for a brain tumor."

"I never thought I would say something like this, but in way I hope it is," Agnes said.

Doctor Silver took a deep breath and stuffed his medical tools into a black bag. "I know what you mean. Otherwise, it's BrigaLOON for her, I'm afraid. Get some sleep, Agnes. I'll check in on you in the morning."

"BrigaLOON?" I said once the doctor was gone.

Agnes sort of half-smiled. "Yeah, that's what they call the locked ward. It's a play on that old musical
Brigadoon.
It's a strange mysterious place none of us have ever seen where they stash the hopeless mental cases. Some even call it BrigaDOOM."

"That's terrible," I said.

"I know. But I doubt it's as bad as I hear. It's not a snake pit. Still I wouldn't want to see Haddie forced to go there."

I looked out her window but from there I couldn't see any other buildings. "I'm sure it's not as bad as you think. I'm sure they take real good care of the patients."

Mildred coughed. "I hate to break this up, but I need to organize a search of the compound for the missing tricycle." Mildred was the Bright's Pond Chief of Police—a title primarily honorary since she was the only cop in town. She was an odd bird, a mixture of feminine brawn and adherence to duty. I guess I would compare her to Jane Russell, the 1950s Hollywood sex symbol.

"Sure, sure, you go ahead. I'll call Zeb to come get me."

"You won't mind?" Mildred said.

"Nah, I want to stay with Agnes for a little longer."

Mildred took out a small spiral notebook from her breast pocket. "Can I get a description of the tricycle?"

Agnes laughed and slapped her knee. "Description. Sure, Mildred. It's bright red, with handlebar streamers and a silver bell. But listen, I suspect if you find any tricycle around here, it'll be Haddie's."

Mildred scribbled in her book. "Just want the facts straight. If there's one thing I've learned since moving to Bright's Pond, it's not to assume anything."

"Are you OK?' I asked Agnes once Mildred left the room.

"Yeah, sure. I'm fine. But that little woman packs a punch. She was all over me."

"That must have been scary."

"In a funny, weird sort of way."

"What do you think happened to her tricycle?"

"Don't have a clue. But I suspect someone took it as a joke."

I pushed hairs behind Agnes's ears and looked at the scratches on her cheek. "Some joke."

Agnes pointed to the visitor chair. "Sit. Can you stay a while?"

My mind flashed on Zeb and the kiss I was about to receive before Mildred brought the moment to a screeching halt. "I was planning to. I mean I'm sure the moment has passed."

"Moment? What moment?"

Zeb and I were talking, and he was about to kiss me when Mildred showed up."

"Ah, gee, really. I'm sorry. That stinks. But I was just so frightened and for a minute there I couldn't catch my breath."

I looked away from her and wallowed for a minute in what I suppose was self-pity.

"Look," Agnes said. "Go home and go see him. Rekindle the moment. I'm sure he'll find his pucker again."

"Maybe. He gets so jealous so easily. Like he doesn't want to share me."

"What man does? But if he wants you and loves you then he'll have to understand that you have other responsibilities sometimes."

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I suppose. I just wish he didn't get so upset over this stuff. It's not like I am deliberately doing it. I'm not planning these interruptions."

Agnes reached under her pillow and pulled out a Baby Ruth. "Want some?"

"Sure. Why not?" I said thinking about how easily Agnes recovered from her terrible ordeal.

I stayed with Agnes for the better part of an hour mostly debating whether to run home to Zeb and waiting for word from Mildred about the fate of Haddie Grace's tricycle.

Agnes's suppertime rolled around and an aide carried a tray into her room.

"Will you look at that?" Agnes said. "More salad. A hamburger patty. Cottage cheese, fruit, and sugar-free Jell-O. It just ain't food."

"It's good for you. And you want to get thinner, don't you? And besides you just ate that candy bar."

Agnes poked a fork into the mound of cottage cheese. "Yeah, but this—this is torture."

Mildred popped into the room. "Found it."

"The trike?" I said. "Really? Where was it?"

Mildred walked farther into the room. "It was out behind the gazebo. Some old geezer was sitting on it and pretending he was on a spaceship bound for Mars."

I smiled. "You shouldn't say geezer, but it is funny."

"Funny? I had to fight him for it." Mildred said, sitting on the edge of Agnes's bed. "Then he took off and skipped back to one of the buildings over there and disappeared."

"Where is it now?"

"Back at Haddie Grace's room. She's still out cold from whatever the doc gave her. Guess she'll see it in the morning."

Agnes looked out the window toward the gazebo. "Something weird is happening. This just isn't right. Folks around here are turning into children."

Mildred made outer space noises. "They're just old and senile—acting out is all."

Agnes waved her hand. "No, no. It's more than that. I tell you, this is not right, and it seems to have started right after the gazebo went up."

That was when I saw the spark in Mildred's eyes. "Really, Agnes? You think something foul is afoot?"

"I do. I just can't put my finger on it. But . . . now don't think I'm nuts but it's like they really are getting younger."

"I still think it's just the holidays," I said. "Bringing out the kid in them."

Mildred said, "Uh-huh, maybe, but I think I should do some investigating. Could be drugs."

"Drugs?" Agnes became excited. "That's exactly what I was thinking."

"That's impossible, Mildred." I said. "Where would they get drugs? And why? Lord knows they take enough drugs already prescribed by the doctors."

"Could be someone is doing it without their knowledge," Mildred said.

"But why?" Agnes said. "Why would anybody want to attack this nursing home?"

"This is nonsense," I said. "No one is drugging or attacking the residents of the Greenbrier Nursing Home."

Mildred peeked out the window. "Still and all I think I'll do some snooping." She opened her little black notebook and scribbled something. "I'll keep it on the Q.T. Ask a few pertinent questions; keep my eye out. Don't want the television news program getting wind of this."

"Or that reporter fella from Shoops—what's his name?"

"Dabs," I said. "Dabs Lemon. He'll be snooping around here like a bloodhound after filet mignon if he catches a sniff of this."

"I hope I can solve this mystery before that happens," Mildred said. "I'll start asking if anyone has seen anyone new or suspicious around the grounds."

"Just the fella that built the Gazebo," Agnes said. "A weird kind of guy. Short, but stocky, you know, strong as an ox. He built that thing all by himself. I think Sally told me his name was Leon . . . Leon—something or other."

"It's a place to start," Mildred said. "I'll go see Sally now."