Elaine Orr - Jolie Gentil 03 - When the Carny Comes to Town (10 page)

“Out!” Nurse Ratched said.

I told Scoobie I’d check in on him once more and then probably go home to sleep.

“I heard you slept here.”  He smiled with closed eyes.  “You’d miss me.”

“Nah, just your poems.”

We walked down the hall with Sgt. Morehouse.  A quick look in the waiting room showed it had a lively group, complete with bags of potato chips.  “Come on, over here,” Morehouse said, nodding toward the bank of elevators.

He leaned against the wall, and I realized he looked pretty tired.  He must have been checking out a lot of people about Scoobie.

“It makes sense he don’t remember much,” Morehouse began.

“Why?” I asked.

“Lemme finish.  Thing is, the tox screen showed quite a bit of Rohypnol…”

“He wouldn’t…” Ramona said.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I said lemme finish,” he scowled, including both of us in his annoyed look.

“Scoobie never did anything with needles,” Morehouse said.  “Plus, it was a really bad needle stick.  Somebody already high as a kite might do it that bad, but Scoobie wasn’t using.  He didn’t stick himself.”  He thought for a moment, seeming to choose his words carefully.  “Now, don’t get all hysterical on me here, but my guess is someone wanted to kill him.”

“What is it?” I repeated.

Morehouse gave me a funny look.  “It’s a date rape drug.  Usually it’s not injected, but rarely people, especially stupid people, crush a pill and inject the powder.  Somebody either had it with them or came back to finish off Scoobie.” 

“Mexican valium,” Ramona said, slowly.

“How do you know that?” I asked.

She shrugged.  “You work at the beach you hear what people use.”  She stared directly at Morehouse, as if daring him to ask who used it.

“So, whoever hurt Scoobie is a pretty evil person all the way around…” I began.

The elevator door opened and George Winters walked out.  His eyebrows went up and he grinned at Morehouse.  “Been calling you.”

“Yeah, I know.”  Morehouse gave him a fifteen second summary, leaving out the so-called needle stick, all the while walking to the elevator.  “Scoobie’s awake, but he don’t know much about what happened.  Looks as if someone snuck up on him from behind, pushed him down a flight of stairs.”

As if in response to Morehouse’s wishes, the elevator door opened and he stepped in, holding up a hand so George would not join him.  “Get a new phone yet?” he asked, as the door closed.

CHAPTER TEN

SCOOBIE MOVED TO A REGULAR room on Wednesday morning, and he was allowed to sit in a chair and walk with a walker.  He didn’t like the walker, but Drs. Nobles and Cahill said it was for balance and to get him to do everything slowly until his vertebrae healed more.  He didn’t complain when the occupational therapist worked with him, showing him how to do things without straining his back or neck.  That was a clue about how much pain he was in.  A needed clue, since he wouldn’t let on.

I went to get coffee when the occupational therapist worked with him.  I know how hard “face time” with people is for Scoobie, and thought he was only being reasonably chilled about everything because Aunt Madge visits mid-morning each day.  He wouldn’t want her to chew him out.  I know his attitudes are what work for him, but I still don’t get it.  Scoobie seems so at ease with Ramona and me — most of the time.

When she visited this morning, Aunt Madge had told Scoobie his mother had come and possibly gone.  I waited in the hall, not sure what Scoobie would want me to hear.  I wasn’t eavesdropping, really, but did hear him say, “She still alive?”  Then he offered Aunt Madge a piece of fruit from the basket Reverend Jamison had sent over from “your friends at First Prez.”  Since he never mentioned his mother, I didn’t either. 

Scoobie was tired after his time with the OT so I decided to go back to Cozy Corner about ten-thirty.  Just before I did I remembered Alicia’s reaction to Scoobie’s injuries and told him about it.

“Huh.  I saw her a couple times at the carnival,” he said.  “She helped Megan some at the dunk tank…hey, how much did we make?”

“Seven hundred and eighty-two dollars.  Can you believe that?” I asked.

“Ha!  Next time I have an idea don’t put it down so fast.”

“The most was when Martin Small was up there.  He was one of the people who said he’d stay up there as long as there were people who wanted to knock him down.”

“Every druggie in town?” he asked, alluding to some of the people Small prosecuted a lot.

“Nope, Lance said it was the cops.  Guess they think he’s a weenie.”

“So, Alicia,” he said, thinking.  “After she helped some at the dunk tank she went off with friends.  They were hanging around the Merry-go-Round a lot.”

“Do you suppose
?”
.
.
.
I began.

“Drugs?  Jeez, Jolie, she seems awful young.”

I gave him a look, “And you were how old when you had your first joint?”

“I guess I see your point.  But why would she be so upset about me?  She thinks I’m a dork.”

“If you mean because you kept trying to get people to bet on how many cans of sweet potatoes would be left on the shelves after Christmas, I think she got over that.”

“She’s what, twelve or thirteen?” he asked.

“I guess.  Did you see her talking to any carnival workers?”

He shook his head.  “They were doing the usual kid stuff.  Ignoring the boys, trying to guess each other’s weight on that huge scale.  Girl giggly stuff.”

I smiled at that.  “They might come visit you.  Megan and Alicia,” I said, in response to his look.

He grimaced and then gestured at the baskets of fruit and candy.  “I don’t want to see anyone, but I guess they’re OK.  Tell Megan not to bring anything for me.”

AUNT MADGE WAS really pleased that I offered to take Mr. Rogers and Miss Piggy for a long walk Wednesday afternoon.  “They’re tired of the back yard.”  She loaded me up with plastic bags. 

“And you’re tired of poop patrol,” I said.  “Sorry I haven’t been here more to do it.”

“Heavens, nothing matters except Adam getting better.”

The Ocean Alley Middle School is about six blocks from Aunt Madge’s, so I had to hustle to get there in the neighborhood of two forty-five, which is about when I remembered being annoyed by school buses in that area.  Hustling was not what Mr. Rogers and Miss Piggy had in mind, and they resented not sniffing every tree or bush.

I knew Megan and Alicia lived two blocks west of the school, as I’d dropped them off a couple evenings before Christmas when we all worked late at the food pantry.  I could see the buses parked in front of the school, so I figured we were right on time.  I hadn’t counted on the dogs freaking out when another bus pulled up, so I was busy convincing Mr. Rogers to keep moving toward the school when the bell rang and kids started pouring out.

It suddenly occurred to me that while the dogs seemed like a good excuse to be walking by the school, I hadn’t thought of how they would react to all the kids.  No worries.  Tails wagging and tongues out, they immediately forgot the big yellow buses and walked toward the groups of kids.  I suspected there were some food smells in their knapsacks.

“Oh, they’re so cute.  Can I pet them?” asked a girl who looked to be about twelve.

“Sure.  They love attention.” 
I’ve never seen them even nip at anyone
.  What if they bite?
  I broke into a sweat as six or eight kids surrounded the dogs.  Miss Piggy immediately plopped on the ground and put her front paws over her eyes, a trick she learned before coming to Aunt Madge and uses periodically to get attention or dog treats.  She was a big hit.

Between keeping an eye on the dogs and responding to questions about how old they were and if they were siblings (
who the hell cares?)
I would have missed Alicia if she hadn’t seen me and walked over.

“Jolie,” she said.  “You have dogs.”

“Technically Aunt Madge does.  I probably should have walked in the other direction this time of day.”  I took in her black-on-black outfit, which was nothing I’d seen her in.  They didn’t look like clothes Megan would buy for Alicia, but what did I know?

C
ould you hold one leash, Alicia?” I asked.

She put both knapsack straps over her shoulders.  “Sure.”  She reached for Miss Piggy’s leash and urged her to stand.  “You going back toward your aunt’s?” she asked.

“We can go in your direction for a minute or two.  I don’t want to keep you from your homework.”

There was general laughter at this, and the group of mostly girls said goodbye and moved in different directions.

“I hope I didn’t embarrass you.  That was probably a dumb thing to say.”

She smiled and we stopped while Mr. Rogers smelled a bench near the school’s main entrance.  “It’s okay.  They know who you are.”

That confused me for a few seconds, until I realized my picture had been in the paper a few times, and Alicia probably talked to them about helping at Harvest for All.  Should I be insulted?  I pushed that thought aside.

We were past the school boundaries and there weren’t any more kids to talk to.  Alicia seemed so relaxed I almost hated to bring up the carnival, but that was why I was here.

“Scoobie’s getting a bit better every day.  He was really pleased that you cared so much about him.”

“Oh, uh, sure.”  She began to look worried, perhaps sensing this was more than a dog walk.

“The police don’t really have any leads.  I thought it might be this guy who seemed to know Scoobie, but I guess not.”

She started to hand me back the leash.  “I need to…”

I didn’t take it.  “Alicia, what did you see?  Why were you so upset?”

Her eyes darted from side to side, avoiding my gaze.  “I didn’t see anything.”

We were stopped now, and Miss Piggy was relieving herself on a blooming azalea bush.  “Nobody’ll be mad at you.  I can’t imagine you did anything wrong.”

“I didn’t.”  She was almost fierce, and she wiped her eyes with the back of the hand not holding a leash.

“But you saw something, something you wonder if you should talk about, but you’re afraid to.”  When she looked away I continued.  “You don’t need to talk to the police.  Just tell me.”

She looked back at me.  “You won’t tell my mom either?”

That got me.  “Did anybody hurt you?”

“No.”  She said this very quickly.  “Not at all.”

“Okay, I won’t tell your mom.” 
Bad thing to promise, Jolie.

She took a deep breath.  “You remember when you guys were walking back to the gong thing, but then Scoobie walked away?”

That I didn’t expect.  “Yes.”

“Well, the guy, the worker.  He was looking at Scoobie, and when you guys turned away he called Scoobie an asshole, but not very loud.  And then,” she paused, “he sort of noticed I was looking at him, and he just gave me a funny smile, and then started talking loud again.”

“Talking loud?”

“You know, all the dumb stuff they say to get you to play the games.”

I smiled at that.  “The guy on the loud speaker was the worst.”

“Footlong dogs,” she said, and we both laughed for a second.

Alicia looked away.

“There’s something else,” I said quietly.

“And you won’t tell?”

“Nope.  I think I know what it is, I just want to see if I’m right.”

She looked surprised, kind of as if no adult could have a clue.  “Well…did you know he sells joints and stuff?”

“Scoobie said the guy used to do it years ago.  It’s why Scoobie didn’t want to be around him.”

She nodded.  “I didn’t buy any.”  She looked directly at me.  “Really.”

“That’s good.  You wouldn’t believe all the crud in marijuana smoke.”  To say nothing about it being illegal.

Her eyes widened.  “What kind of crud?”

Bad word choice.
  “Ammonia, for starters.  Look on the internet.”  This topic was not why I was here.

Her look became resentful.  “Are you going to tell me to stay away from all that stuff because of Whitney Houston?”

I sighed.  “You know who Len Bias was?”

She gave me a blank stare.  “The guys’ll know.  He was a star basketball player at the University of Maryland, supposed to be one of the best to be going to the NBA that year.  He used cocaine once.”

“So?”  She had adopted a haughty attitude.  She probably got a lot of ‘advice’ from her mom and teachers.

“Died.”  I snapped my fingers.  “Just like that.  So much for celebrating the basketball season.” 

She said nothing, and her look was almost defiant.

“Just marijuana?”  I asked.

“I think maybe some pills, but I’m really not sure.  I heard one of the guys say he was going to fly tonight.”

“I’m not going to lecture you at all, that’s not why I’m here.”  Though she better pay attention.