Good Heavens (34 page)

Nancy was thinking the same thing I was thinking. “Miss E., if I was to guess, I'd say Linda did this—bought the pills, dropped them in something Portia ate or drank, then planted the wrappers in her jacket pocket.”

“How can we prove that?”

“Maybe when Portia wakes up, she'll be able to tell us what happened.”

I laid my hand on that sleeping form and closed my eyes.
Lord, help this poor girl wake up. Make Ursula change her mind
.

Portia did wake up, slowly at first, and was very groggy. Nancy asked her if she knew how or why this happened to her. She shook her head and closed her eyes.

“Portia,” Nancy said, “look at these wrappers.” Without opening her eyes, Portia murmured, “Linda.”

“Portia, how did she do this to you?”

“I don't know,” she mumbled.

I looked at Nancy, and she shook her head. “We'll never know, Miss E. All we can do is pray.”

I brushed my hand across Portia's hair. “We're going to try to prove you weren't responsible for this, Portia.” But even as I said it, I had no faith that we would.

Ursula was dead set on sending Portia home. I tried reasoning with her. “Ursula, you're making a mistake. Linda is back of this. She said she would get even with Portia for moving out of her room, and she's done it. Don't you see? This was an easy way for her to get even—just slip the pills in Portia's food or drink.”

Looking in the phone book for a number, Ursula muttered, “Hearsay, hearsay.” She found the number. “Esmeralda, you dislike Linda. You have disliked her from the beginning. From what she tells me, you have done irreparable harm to her self-image, and here you are trying to blame her for Portia's ingesting drugs.” She punched in the number. “I have called her mother, who will wire the money for a plane ticket today. I'm calling the airline now to see if I can make a reservation for tomorrow. They'll keep me on hold, so you can run along.”

“Can't you hold off until we get to the bottom of this?”

“We have gotten to the bottom of this, Esmeralda.
Hearsay is not worthy of consideration; we have the facts. Portia was found unconscious. She could have died from such an overdose. If she had, there would no doubt be litigation against Priscilla Home, and the media would ruin our reputation. We cannot tolerate such blatant violation of house rules. And you, Esmeralda, would be well advised to cease these irresponsible accusations.”

I was on my way out the door when she called me back. “You dropped something.” Before I could get to it, she had come around the desk and picked it up. It was one of the little silver wrappers. “What's this?”

I didn't answer. She looked at me hard. “Where did you find this?”

I still didn't answer.

“This is something that held a pill, isn't it? Now tell me, did you find this in Portia's room?”

“I'd rather not say.”

Convinced she had the evidence in hand, she smugly went back around the desk and sat down. “Insubordination does not become you, Esmeralda.”

I couldn't have cared less.

For the rest of the day I kept to myself. There was no way in the world to keep the lid on things, and I didn't want to be bombarded with questions. Nancy told me all the girls thought Linda was in back of Portia's ordeal, and they were making efforts to prove it. But so far they had come up with nothing.

Once Portia was up and about, she tried to avoid Linda, but Nancy said that when the girls were doing crafts,
Linda held up three fingers in Portia's face, tormenting her. Seeing that, Wilma waited until Linda was outside, got her in back of the garage, and punched out her lights until Linda got loose and ran.

“Don't give me details,” I said. “I don't need to know anything about that.”

“Oh, Linda won't say anything. She's afraid of Wilma.”

All day I wracked my brain trying to think of a way to prove Linda's guilt. Albert was coming after supper for a hymn sing. I was going to tell him the whole story. Maybe he could help.

By suppertime Ursula had everything settled. She had picked up the money from Western Union and made a reservation for Portia on the 12:30 flight out of Greensboro. I offered to drive Portia to the airport, but Ursula said she was taking her. “I want to make sure this young lady goes straight home to her mother. She may have in mind doing what she's done before—cash in the ticket and use the money for more drugs.”

“More drugs?”

“Yes. That's what I said.”

“But Portia doesn't even smoke cigarettes anymore!”

At the supper table there was deathly silence. There was such a lump in my throat I couldn't eat, and before the meal was over, I shoved my plate away and sat waiting for the rest of them to finish. When Portia, her chin
trembling, smiled at me, I had to excuse myself and leave the table.

After supper, most of the girls were in Portia's room, helping her pack, when Albert came. He sat on the piano bench, and I drew up a chair beside him. Ursula was across the room on the couch, shuffling papers. I had just about finished telling him the situation when Ursula interrupted me. “Mr. Ringstaff, I am sure you understand the gravity of this matter. As you can see, if I do not dismiss Portia, my authority as director will be greatly diminished.”

Ursula thought Albert would be on her side, but she was dead wrong. He shook his head and was about to say something when she started in again. “If I am to maintain the integrity of Priscilla Home, this resident must be dismissed.” But seeing he was not agreeing with her, she went on, “This is a staff matter, Mr. Ringstaff, and is none of your affair.”

But Albert would not be put off. “Ursula, any injustice is everyone's affair. Esmeralda believes Portia was framed, that another resident is responsible.”

“Mere hearsay.”

“Hold on, Ursula. Esmeralda is not given to wild speculation. Neither is she alone in her point of view. I talked with Nancy on the porch, and she said the consensus among the ladies is that Linda has something to do with this. I just think the matter should be looked into before you make a decision.”

“I've already made my decision. Do you not agree that it is incumbent upon any leader to adhere strictly to rules and regulations?”

He looked her in the eye. “Ursula, ‘A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.'”

“Emerson!” she snapped and, mad as a wet hen, marched into her office.

That night I could not sleep. I cried and I prayed, and by morning I was a wreck. Before I could get dressed, I heard a timid little knock on my door. I knew it was Portia. I opened the door, and there she stood like some poor little lamb.

“I made something for you,” she said and handed me a small package wrapped in tissue paper she had found somewhere. When I opened it, I could have cried. Portia had framed that poem from my Bible:

“Do you like it?” she asked.

“I love it! I've always wanted to have that little poem framed.” I wanted to tell her why. “Sit down, Portia, right there on the bed.” And I told her how the Lord used that poem as one of the ways of leading me to Priscilla Home.

“Portia, I wish I had something to give you.”

“Miss E., you've given me everything I need.”

“I never gave you anything. What did I ever give you?”

“Jesus.”

That was more than I could take. I was so full I couldn't say a word.

Portia picked up my Bible from off the table but didn't open it; she just held it in both hands, hugging it to her chest. I could hardly control myself. “Portia, would you like to have my Bible?”

She looked up at me like she couldn't believe what she had heard.

“I mean it. I want you to have it. Just let me take out a few things I've stuck in there.”

She handed it to me, and her hands were trembling. There were only two things in there I knew wouldn't mean anything to her—the pressed flower and Bud's letter.

“Miss E., I can't take your Bible—”

“Portia, you're not taking it, I'm giving it to you. I want you to have it.”

Ursula was blowing the horn. As we hugged each other, I squeezed back the tears. I held on to her until Ursula was blowing again. Portia, with the Bible in her arms, opened the door then looked back at me with tears in her eyes. I took her in my arms and held her again. Ursula was sitting on that horn; I had to let Portia go.

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