The Girl from Felony Bay (10 page)

B
ee and I walked out
of the muggy South Carolina heat into the cool air of the hospital, and I headed toward the elevators. I pushed the button for Daddy's floor, then looked around, expecting to find Bee right behind me, but she wasn't there. I was surprised to see that she had hung back and come to a stop only a foot or two inside the front doors.

Just as she had outside, she appeared frozen. Her eyes were tilted upward, but not really looking at anything. The expression on her face made me think that something was frightening her very badly. I walked back to her, but when she didn't look at me, I touched her shoulder.

“Bee?”

She started a little, then pulled her eyes down to my face. It seemed to take a lot of effort. “Hospitals just freak me out,” she said. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” I said. “You want to stay down here or come up?”

She seemed to think it over as her eyes roamed the waiting area with its couches and chairs. “I guess I'll come with you,” she finally said.

I nodded, and we walked toward the elevators. When one came, I pressed the button for the sixth floor and we went up. I led Bee down to the doors that opened onto Daddy's hallway, hit the buzzer, then waved to the nurse, who came to see who wanted in.

“You brought a friend?” she asked.

I nodded. “This is Bee.”

Bee said a quick hello. She was glancing around, looking everywhere at once, nervous as a pig at a barbecue contest.

“This way,” I said, and headed toward Daddy's room. The door was open, and I walked inside the way I always did, with a loud, cheerful greeting.

“Morning, Daddy,” I said. “Time to wake up. You have a guest today.”

Of course he didn't move, just lay there with his hands at his sides, the tubes carrying the liquids and food into his wrist and down his nose into his stomach.

I heard a noise in the doorway and turned. Bee was gripping the side of the door as if she was afraid she might fall down. The expression on her face had hardened. There was no mistaking that just being here struck terror into her heart.

Not knowing what else to do, I turned back to Daddy. “Our guest's name is Bee. Her last name is Force, same as ours. She's not a blood relative, but she is kin, as you'd say. She's also my new best friend.”

I glanced back again at Bee. She was staring hard at Daddy, but my words seemed to have helped. She took one step into the room, then two. She stopped at the end of the bed.

“Hi, Mr. Force,” she said in a very soft voice.

“Say it louder,” I told her. “We want to wake him up.”

“Hi, Mr. Force,” Bee said, louder this time. I think she even smiled a little bit.

I turned back to Daddy. “We really need you to wake up, because we have so many questions we need to ask. Especially about Felony Bay. Uncle Charlie says it's a separate piece of property and not part of Reward. I don't really understand, but it seems like somebody else has bought it and put up No Trespassing signs.”

Daddy just lay there. I glanced back at Bee. “Well, anyway, I just wanted to introduce you to my new friend and tell you that I really need to talk to you. The weather is good, and you're missing some really excellent fishing. Everyone says there are more redfish than ever. The plantation is beautiful. You really need to wake up. I love you.”

I leaned over and kissed his head, and we left.

As we walked toward the elevator, Bee seemed to relax a little bit. “You made it sound like he still owns the plantation.”

I nodded. “I'm afraid if I tell him the truth, he might not want to wake up. He loved Reward very, very much.”

I pushed the button to call the elevator, then looked over and was shocked to see a tear running down Bee's cheek. I opened my mouth to say something when the elevator came. I glanced at it, saw that it was going up, and turned back to Bee. I was about to ask what was the matter when the elevator doors opened and I heard a man say, “Abbey, another nice surprise!”

I looked around again and saw that Mr. Barrett had just gotten off the elevator.

“Hi, Mr. Barrett,” I said. “Visiting Daddy?”

“I sure am,” he replied. “Have you been reading to him?”

“Not today. I just went in to say hello and introduce him to my friend Bee.”

Mr. Barrett turned to Bee and held out his hand. “Hello, Bee. I'm Crawford Barrett. I'm Abbey's dad's law partner.”

Bee took his hand and smiled. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“Bee's father is the new owner of Reward,” I said.

“You're Bee Force, then?”

“Yessir.”

“I'd love to meet your father when he has a few minutes.”

“He's in India working on his business.”

“Well, when he's back.”

“Yessir, I'll make sure to tell him.”

“That would be kind of you. So how does the rest of your family like living on Reward?”

“It's just me and my grandmother,” she said in a low voice.

I knew by now it was probably best to change the subject when it came to Bee's family. “Is Custis in the office today?”

“Yes,” Mr. Barrett said. “Stop on in if you're downtown. I know he'd love to see you.”

The down elevator arrived, and the doors opened. Bee and I walked past Mr. Barrett with a wave.

I took a quick look inside the elevator, checking to make sure that there was plenty of room. Besides Bee and me there was just a lady in a wheelchair, along with her nurse. I barely glanced at them as I got on, stood beside Bee, and turned around to face the doors. I had one single thing on my mind, because I knew Bee was holding back some big secret about her family. I had told her everything about my family, and while I knew she didn't want to talk about hers, I hoped she would open up one day soon.

Just then one of the people behind us made kind of a choking sound, and I turned. It was the lady in the wheelchair, but when I looked at her face and recognized her, I felt the breath catch in my throat as a red blush that was equal parts shame and anger spread over my face.

I knew that Bee picked right up on it, because she turned slightly as her eyes shifted from me to the lady in the wheelchair, then back to me.

I wouldn't normally have paid that much attention to a silent old lady in a wheelchair. However, I noticed every single thing about Miss Lydia Jenkins. She was the lady whose jewelry and gold Daddy was supposed to have stolen.

Miss Jenkins would have been tall if she had been able to stand up, but the stroke she had suffered a couple years earlier pretty much paralyzed her, and she was old and shriveled and hunched in her seat. In spite of the heat outside, her legs were covered with a crocheted cotton blanket, and her hands lay still atop it. I could see big, gross blue veins along the backs of them, and her fingers were long and crooked as sticks. They reminded me of osprey talons. Her cheeks were as pale and lifeless as lumps of dough. Her lips drooped, and a little line of spit ran from one corner of her mouth.

The only thing that showed she even knew what was going on around her was her eyes. They perched over her old, hawkish nose and glared out at the world with intelligence and a feverish intensity. They gave me the willies and reminded me of one of those horror movies where a bad person looks out through the eyes of a painting, so that only the eyes move and the rest of the face is frozen.

I would never have gotten into the elevator if I had recognized her, but now the doors were closed and we were already moving. I was trapped. I slid sideways, a little in front of Bee, wishing that Miss Jenkins's crazy eyes wouldn't find me. I totally forgot all my questions about Bee's mom, because being stuck this close to Miss Jenkins brought on all kinds of tangled emotions. Part of it was fear, as if she was a witch who had cursed my father and might curse me. Another part of it was anger that she hadn't done anything when the police had accused my father of stealing her jewelry. The other thing I felt was shame that so many people seemed to believe that Daddy could be a thief. Half of me wanted to scream at Miss Jenkins, but, to tell the truth, the other half realized that shouting at a paralyzed old woman was wrong, no matter what I felt.

I also recognized the other lady, the one who was pushing Miss Jenkins's wheelchair. It was Jimmy Simmons's mother, Esther. She was a pale woman and very thin, and her baggy housedress hung off her bony shoulders like a sack. Any time I had ever seen her I had thought she looked exhausted, just like she did now. If I hadn't known better, I would have said she looked like she had been plowing fields all morning rather than pushing a skinny old lady in a wheelchair.

Normally I would have felt sorry for someone who looked so beaten down, but I couldn't help wondering if she was part of the reason that her son, Jimmy, was such a jerk and a bully. I glanced in her direction and saw her staring at me out of her watery, unhappy eyes. Her expression was unfriendly, but that was nothing new. I couldn't imagine wanting someone like that to be my nurse, but I guessed that Miss Jenkins didn't have much of a choice, since she was paralyzed and could barely talk. Anyway, it seemed like Mrs. Simmons treated Miss Jenkins pretty well, even if she was mean as a snake to everybody else.

I turned and fixed my eyes on the light above the door as we descended at what seemed like a snail's pace. Hospital elevators may be the slowest contraptions in the world. I just wanted to get to the first floor and let Mrs. Simmons and Miss Jenkins turn one way, so that I could turn the other and get away as fast as I could.

We stopped at five. The doors opened, and two more people got on. When the doors closed again, the light changed to four. The two people got off. Finally we went to three, then two. That was when I heard Miss Jenkins starting to stir.

First she made that same choking noise in her throat again, and I realized maybe she was trying to say something. I glanced around and saw that she was moving a little, rocking her shoulders from side to side. It occurred to me that she might be choking.

Bee and I had inched over to the side of the elevator, so Mrs. Simmons pushed the wheelchair forward a few feet until it was right in front of the doors. Then she moved around to where she could see Miss Jenkins's face. “Everything okay?” she asked.

Miss Jenkins rocked harder. The elevator light showed that we had reached the first floor. The car stopped. Slow seconds ticked by before the doors opened. Mrs. Simmons was still looking at Miss Jenkins, trying to figure out what was going on.

When Miss Jenkins got pushed forward, I had moved all the way into the corner, and Bee was now just behind me. When the doors opened, it was all I could do not to bolt out of that elevator, but with Bee crowding me from the back, I would have had to risk bumping against Miss Jenkins if I tried to get out. There was no way I was going to touch her if I could help it. I gave Bee a nudge to get her moving, thinking we might be able to go around behind Miss Jenkins and get past her on the other side, but Bee had heard the noises Miss Jenkins was making and turned to look at her.

We were all jammed up with the wheelchair and Mrs. Simmons and Bee blocking the way and nobody trying to push Miss Jenkins off. The bell dinged, and the doors started to close again. Mrs. Simmons seemed to realize what was happening, and she reached out and hit the door with her hand so that it opened again.

“'Scuse us,” she said as she finally started to push Miss Jenkins out. It was early, the hospital still somewhat empty, and no one was waiting for the elevator. Mrs. Simmons got Miss Jenkins into the hallway; then for some reason she turned the wheelchair around again so that Miss Jenkins was facing the elevator.

Bee got off first. She turned to Miss Jenkins's left just as a couple of orderlies appeared from that same direction hurrying toward the elevator and pushing a patient on a gurney. “Please hold that elevator,” one of them called.

Without thinking I stepped to the right, holding my arm against the elevator door to keep it open. As the gurney rolled onto the elevator, I stepped away, and that's when I felt the talons.

It was everything I could do not to jerk away and scream, but I stayed perfectly still. I thought Miss Jenkins was supposed to be paralyzed, but she had managed to reach out one hand and grip my arm just above the wrist. She was looking up at me out of those fierce hawk eyes, and for a half second I wondered if she was going to try and take a bite out of my flesh. But in the next second I saw something in her eyes very different from what I expected. Miss Jenkins seemed to be struggling as hard as she could against her paralysis, and for a couple of seconds I actually felt a little bit sorry for her.

It only lasted until she opened her mouth though. Her jaw jerked from side to side for a few seconds. Then she said what sounded like “S-s-s-stole ittt.”

I barely made out the words, but they hit like a knife in my stomach. I felt a hot wash of anger and shame and grief and knew there were tears running down my cheeks. I tried to twist my arm free, but Miss Jenkins was amazingly strong.

“He did not!” I managed.

I was about to throw my whole body into jerking free when I felt Mrs. Simmons's fingers trying to pry me loose.

When the talons finally let go, I looked down at Miss Jenkins, but my eyes were so blurred that I could barely see. I turned and stumbled down the hallway in the direction of the exit. I lost track of Bee as I pushed through the doors and went outside, where I sucked the hot, humid air into my lungs and tried to stop shaking.

I started to calm down, enough to think anyway, and I turned to find Bee standing right behind me. She didn't say a word, but the look in her eyes told me that she understood.