Brambleman (74 page)

“I find that comforting.”

“You shouldn’t. Try putting her in time-out,
see what happens.”

“Go.”

“I will. But first, it is time to answer your
prayer. I’d be remiss if I didn’t try. Part of it I’ve done
already. Actually, I may have done it a little too well. She’s on
her back, which is way beyond being on her knees. You’ll give me
that, right?”

“Just get out.”

“Ut-ut.” Trouble held up a hand. “Don’t
intervene in an intervention, newbie. You don’t have any idea what
this is all about.”

“I renounce your judgment. Your vengeance.
Your violence. Your hatred. I renounce you.”

“All right. You do have some idea. Still,”
Trouble said, brightening. “Gotta let me try. I mean basically, you
want to get back together with her. Save the kids, yours and hers.
All that.” He waved his hand nonchalantly. “I mean, last I heard
she wasn’t in a mood to ask you back. You can’t make her ask you
back. But you gotta admit I did a pretty good job of making her
need you.” Trouble’s voice was filled with pride.

“I am so tired of you. Romy, swat him.”

Trouble held up his arms as if fending off a
stoning. Then he feinted toward the bed. Charlie held Romy out
toward him like a chainsaw.

“Shame on you, hiding behind a little girl.”
Trouble scolded as he backed off. Then he switched to pleading.
“Come on, let me do this. I’ll perform a miracle.” He rubbed his
hands together vigorously.

“I don’t like your miracles much,” Charlie
said, bobbing his head with every word. “They’re nasty and
cheap-hearted.”

Trouble gave him a grin. “You should see me
turn the blind lame.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Halfway there with you, dude.”

“Tell him he’s banished from this place,”
Charlie whispered to Romy. “Maybe that will work.”

“No!” Trouble cried.

“You are banished from this place!” Romy
shouted, waving her arm.

Trouble flew from the room over Wyatt’s head
like he’d been thrown out by an invisible bouncer, landing on his
ass in the hall. He turned and looked daggers at Romy, then Wyatt,
who now stared at him. Trouble made no attempt to reenter. Instead,
he gave them a sly smile as he slowly got up.

“Forever!” Charlie whispered.

“Forever!” Romy declared, wiping the smile
off Trouble’s face.

“Well, my work here is done, whether I like
it or not!” shouted Trouble as he slid out of sight, his shoes
squealing on the floor. “Completely undeserved!”

Charlie looked out the window as sunshine
broke through the clouds. He collapsed in the aqua chair with Romy
on his lap. Wyatt joined them. They sat quietly while Charlie
stroked the children’s hair. He wondered if the nightmare was
over—or if another one was about to begin.

A short while later, Susan showed signs of
coming out of her coma and Charlie moved to her bedside. She opened
her eyes and stared at the ceiling, then glanced at her estranged
husband with a look of groggy puzzlement. She licked her lips, then
dozed off for a minute. When she came to again, she gazed at his
face and mumbled. “Charlie, is that you?”

“What’s left of me.”

“I barely recognize you. What happened?”

“I got poked in the eye with a sharp
stick.”

“Did Momo do that?”

“No.”

“Anybody I know?”

“No.”

“Looks bad.”

“Well, I’m more concerned about you.”

Susan’s left hand was covered by Charlie’s.
She tried to move it, but it was strapped in a restraint. She
glanced over and saw Charlie’s wedding band. “Are we still
married?”

“Yes.”

“What day is it?”

This was the question doctors asked patients
coming out of comas, so Charlie hesitated for a second, but he
wanted her to score well on the test, so maybe some advance
knowledge wouldn’t hurt. “Friday. You’ve been out of it for a few
days.”

“What time is it?”

In the distance, church bells—the same ones
he’d heard on Christmas Day—began chiming. Charlie savored the
sound, believing somehow that the play clock was running out on
their divorce. “Ten,” she said when they fell silent. “The
trial.”

“You missed it. Under state law, you’re stuck
with me.”

“That seems unfair.”

“Hey, a deal’s a deal.”

“But I got shot.” She stared at the ceiling.
A tear trickled down her cheek. He reached for a tissue and dabbed
her face. “Black guys,” she said. “Just kids. One of them had a
gun. I gave them the keys but they wanted me to get in the car. I
wouldn’t do it. I thought, God, let them kill me out in the street.
I didn’t want to die in a car trunk. Or worse.”

“I understand. The police caught them both.
The one who shot you is dead.”

“It’s terrible. I thought I was going to
die.”

“Well, you didn’t. You’re very strong.”

“I’m very thirsty.” There was a pitcher of
ice water on the bedside stand, along with plastic cups and
bendable straws. He poured a cup and positioned it for her to
drink. She took a long sip, then tried to sit up, but she was bound
to the bed. “Can you undo these?”

“I’ll get a nurse.” He reached over and hit
the call button.

“I just want to get up and walk out of here.
But something’s not right. I feel a lot of pain in my back. My feet
itch.”

Charlie got up and looked out the door and
fretted. “Where is that nurse?”

“Did I hear children’s voices? I want to see
the kids.”

Wyatt and Romy, sitting together quietly in
the aqua chair, took the cue to stir. Susan turned her head and
stared wide-eyed at them, then at Charlie.

“Who are they? What are they doing here?”

“I was lonely, so I got some new kids,” he
said brightly. “I’ll be happy to share.”

Susan stared at him open-mouthed. “Get out,”
she said.

Charlie stood, feeling liked he’d been
stabbed in the heart. “I’m sorry. Come on, kids.”

“No. Wait. What are you doing?” Susan looked
at him like he was crazy.

“I was—”

“I mean you can’t be serious. Don’t go. I
don’t want to be alone right now.”

The boy stepped to her bedside, opposite
Charlie. “I’m Wyatt.”

Susan knitted her eyebrows. “Hello,
Wyatt.”

“I’m Romy,” the girl said, scrambling up on a
bedside chair and pressing her face close to Susan’s, making the
woman smile. “Brambleman can be silly.”

“Brambleman?”

“He’s my new daddy.”

“Daddy?’

“Me,” Charlie said with a modest shrug. “All
these things and more.”

“He can be very silly,” Susan said. “And this
is one of those times. Where’s your mother?”

“She ran away. You can be my new mommy, if
you want.”

Susan looked completely shocked. “But—”

“Don’t want to stress you too much right
now,” Charlie said. “We’ll talk later.”

Susan was sputtering about his mental health
when a middle-aged nurse in flowered scrubs entered the room. “Are
we up, then?” she asked in a pleasant Midwestern accent. “We’re
going to need some time alone with the doctor,” she explained
apologetically to Charlie. “Meanwhile, there’s some things Susan
needs to do.”

Charlie was already pulling the kids toward
the door.

“Charlie,” Susan called out. “What the heck
is going on?”

Charlie was never so happy in his life to
have a door shut in his face.

As he trudged down the hall with his new
kids, Romy asked, “Will she be our mommy?”

“Can’t say.”

He considered problems and issues as he
waited for the elevator. All the spite and hatefulness. Harold,
Bryan, and maybe even Scudder. A slow recovery of body and mind.
Building a wheelchair ramp. No guarantee they’d ever join as man
and woman again. Or want to.

But being an ascetic had prepared him for
this. It seemed a perfect match otherwise, too: she with her broken
body and her family from hell, and he with his ruined face and
stray kids he’d picked up on the street.

Mainly though, a deal was a deal. He’d
already broken a life-or-death contract, and only one thing had
saved him. It wouldn’t do to break another vow, especially the one
that had been tattooed on his heart the day he’d stood hungover at
the altar in Macon with his twenty-year-old bride. He would accept
responsibility for Susan and what happened to her, whether she
liked it or not.

All this would work out in time, one way or
another. But first things first. He would do things right,
beginning today. Eventually he would buy Susan a new ring. And this
time, his check wouldn’t bounce.

* * *

Friday afternoon, Charlie set up operations
in a Residence Suites motel. While Romy and Wyatt bounced on the
beds, he went online to see the damage Tawny had done to his Visa
card. So far, she’d spent a paltry $543.39, made it to Biloxi, and
checked into a Holiday Inn.

By the end of the day, Charlie had (A)
checked on Beck and Ben and learned not only that were they safe
and sound, but that Bible Camp was good for them (or so they
claimed); (B) found a full-time babysitter; (C) been cleared in the
carjacking; (D) learned from Muncie that Harold had retrieved his
belongings from Thornbriar and requested a transfer to Charlotte;
and (E) talked to Minerva, who had decided to accept his offer to
pay for Shaundra’s funeral.

“An act of contrition,” she called it.
Charlie, feeling contrite, didn’t argue.

“Just curious,” he said. “What made you
change your mind?”

“I don’t rightly know,” she said. “I was just
rocking on the porch the other morning around ten o’clock when the
idea came to me.”

* * *

When Charlie, Romy, and Wyatt visited the
hospital Saturday morning, Bradley Roy was there, his face drawn
and gray, watching over his sleeping daughter. He looked at Charlie
like he was crazy. “I thought it was the drugs talking when Susie
told me you showed up with two black kids,” he said. “Where’d you
find them?”

“In church,” Charlie said.

Bradley Roy shook his head in puzzlement.
“Last night, I told her about Momo and Tantie Marie. She didn’t
take it well. They drugged her to calm her down. They unplugged the
TV because so much bad news is going on.”

He took a deep breath. “And then I get a call
from Vange, screaming at me to get her out of jail. Don’t see how I
can help. She’s being held without bond. In addition to charging
her along with the others with her father’s murder, they got her
for two counts of conspiracy to commit murder. That would be on
you, of course.”

“The Forsyth DA did that?” Charlie marveled.
“I didn’t think he cared.”

“Apparently, they put their money in a pot to
kill you, just like they used to do Pappy’s taxes,” Bradley Roy
said. “I never saw such a bunch in all my life.” He shook his head
in disgust. “They can’t find Stanley. I think he took Vange’s money
and went somewhere.”

Romy stood by the bed, cooing softly to Susan
and reaching up to pat her hand. Charlie brushed back the strand of
hair that always seemed to find its way onto his wife’s
forehead.

“They’re operating Tuesday,” Bradley Roy
said. “Going to take out the bullet, if they can. They’re not sure
it will do any good.”

Charlie cleared his throat. “I’m thinking
about picking up Beck and Ben and bringing them back to Atlanta.
She wants to see them.”

“There’s another week of Bible Camp.” Bradley
Roy nodded at Wyatt, who was interested in where a loose wire on
the floor would lead him. “Looks like you got your hands full,
anyway.” He scowled. “What were you thinking, adopting kids at a
time like this?”

Charlie grabbed Wyatt to prevent him from
getting electrocuted.

Romy looked over at Bradley Roy and said,
“Are you mad at us?”

The old man’s face softened. “I don’t mean to
be takin’ it out on you. Come here, little girl.” She came over to
him. He picked her up, grunting as he sat her on his knee. He
bounced her while she told him what it was like to be a
three-year-old with supernatural powers. He chuckled
indulgently.

“It only encourages her,” Charlie warned.

Susan was showing no sign of waking. Wyatt
grew bored and hungry, so Charlie decided it was time to go. Romy
slid off Bradley Roy’s lap, and the old man stood up wearing a
surprised expression. He tested his leg and looked at Charlie. “My
knee feels better. Arthritis has been giving me a devil of a time.
I figured having a kid sitting on it would kill it, but it seems to
have the opposite effect.”

“How about that,” Charlie said.

* * *

Sunday, Romy carried a vase with yellow and
white daisies into Susan’s room and struggled to place them on the
stand alongside white mums and silver helium balloons. Charlie
noticed that Scudder, that nasty pimp of a banker, had sent red
roses. Bradley Roy had gone to eat lunch, and Susan was alone. She
opened her eyes in response to all the clunking that was going on
around her bed.

“Come here, you,” Susan rasped. Romy stepped
toward her. She smiled and gently brushed Romy’s cheek. Tears
filled the woman’s eyes.

“Are you sad because you miss your children?”
Romy asked.

Susan bit her lip and nodded, then
sobbed.

“I miss my mommy,” Romy said. “I cry
sometimes, too.” She gave the stricken woman a birdlike look,
cocking her head this way and that. “You’re sad because you think
you can’t walk.”

Susan let out an agonized groan. Charlie
looked away.

“Have you tried?” Romy asked, unblinking.

‘No.”

“When you try, maybe you can.”

Susan reached out and grabbed her hand, still
sobbing. “Thank you, sweetie. But you have no idea.”

Charlie noticed that the kids seemed to cheer
Susan up. She chatted with them for a few minutes, ignoring her
estranged husband until she reached out and clasped his hand.
“Thank you for coming by,” she said. A minute later, she tossed it
aside. “I want to be alone now.”