The Ruth Valley Missing (8 page)

“Pink?”

“Well, not pink.”

I laughed and opened my door,
setting the camera bags just inside, then held out my arms for the giant quilt.
He handed it over, his arm brushing mine as he did.

“You got it?”

“I’m good. Thanks for the ride. And
helping me with my stuff.”

We stood staring in silence for a
few seconds.

“Of course. I better head in. See
you in the morning?”

I thought, then remembered, “Right,
Mass. Of course.”

He gave me a big grin before saying
good night and heading up the walk. I closed the door and lugged my stuff
upstairs. I looked out of the giant bedroom windows just as Jack was walking up
the back porch steps to his house. I kicked off my boots and clothes, threw on
my sweatpants and climbed into bed, cuddling with my new comforter and quilt.
 

“So you actually went to school to
be a psychiatrist?”

I sat across from the town doctor, a
short man with salt and pepper hair and a nasally voice. I had received a call
from Sister Marjorie informing me that I should meet with the doctor to see if
I could help at the town hospital, or at least that’s what she called it. In
reality, it wasn’t much more than a few rooms, barely a clinic.

“Actually, I wasn’t sure what I
wanted to be, but yes, my degree is in Psychiatry.”

The doctor looked down at the paper
in front of him, then up at me. “Not too sure we need that kind of expertise
here.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m happy to help
with whatever’s needed. I do have some basic nursing skills as well. I did a
volunteer stint in Haiti, so I do have real world experience with some basic
stuff – wound care, nothing too fancy.”

“You realize this isn’t a paid
position. And I won’t be having you treat patients in any way. You probably
won’t do more than file papers, order supplies, things like that.”

I nodded. “I understand. I just want
to help in any way I can.”

The doctor stood up and extended his
hand. “Well, in that case, Miss Quinn, welcome to Ruth Valley Hospital. It’s
generally slow here, so I can just call you when I need an extra set of hands
to take care of things.”

“That sounds great, Dr. Matthews.”

He shook his head. “Well, you go on
for now and I’ll be in touch.”

I headed out of his office, through
the empty waiting room and out to the sidewalk. He didn’t seem too thrilled
about my help, but I wanted to make it clear that I was willing to help where I
could in town. To that end, I started towards the bookstore, just a block away.

As I pushed the door open, I was
greeted by a middle aged woman sitting behind a desk. Reading glasses sat on
the edge of her nose, a book in her hand. “May I help you?”

“Actually, Jack told me I should
come by. He said you were looking for some help around the shop?”

The woman set her book down on the
desk. “Yes, I am actually. When can you start?”

“
S
oon, I guess. You didn’t
want to ask me any questions?”

“If Jack sent you, I am sure you are
lovely.” She got up out of her chair in a rush and started to wrap a scarf
around her neck. “Any chance you could start now? I’d love to go get some
errands done.”

I shrugged. “I guess so.”

“Wonderful.” She whizzed past to the
door. “My name is Joan. I’ll be back in two hours. Payday is every other
Friday.”

Before I could say anything she was
out the door. I stood in the front of the bookstore, looking around. I had no
idea what I was supposed to do, so I wandered around looking at the books. When
I found one on state photography, I took it to the desk and started to thumb
through it.  

Inside the book there were gorgeous
photos of foliage, foliage I reminded myself to take advantage of while living
here. Trees were just beginning to turn red and gold, early for this area, so
it wouldn’t be long at all before the town was surrounded in brilliant autumn
colors. I thought that would be a good introduction to photography for Emma as
well.

As I finished going through the
book, the bells on the front door jingled.

“Jameson. I didn’t expect to see you
here.”

Sister Marjorie was standing in the
doorway, in dark garb, an imposing cross dangling from her neck.

“I just started working here.”

“Really? I hadn’t heard.”

“It’s a fairly new development.”

She pursed her lips and stared at
me. “Dr. Matthews seemed pleased with your visit. Hopefully you’ll be able to
help him out.”

Funny, he didn’t seem pleased when I
was there, I thought.

“Yes, I am looking forward to it.”
She stood there, silently. “Is there something I can help you with, Sister?”

“I’m looking for Joan. Is she here?”

“She just left.”

“Where did she go?”

“I’m not sure. She said she had
errands to run.” Sister Marjorie pursed her lips again and stroked the cross
around her neck with the tips of her fingers. I added, “She should be back in
two hours.”

“I’ll find her later then. No need
to tell her I came by.”

Without a goodbye, she turned and
headed out of the store. I know Jack said she meant well, but it didn’t stop me
from getting the chills when she was around. I shook off a shudder before
heading back to reshelve the photo book I had been looking through.

I stood staring at a shelf, when the
bells on the door jingled again. I made my way to the front, looking to see who
popped in this time.

“Hi there. What can I help you
find?”

A young man, probably no more than
twenty was standing there fidgeting with his hat.

“I’m lookin’ for a book.”

I bit the inside of my lip, controlling
the smart remarks sitting on the tip of my tongue.

“A particular type of book?”

“Poetry?”

“Trying to impress a girl?”

He looked down, rubbed one hand on
his jeans, and nodded.

I smiled. It was a little sad, but
sweet to see a guy so shy about wooing a girl, or wooing at all. “Well, I just
started here, but I am sure we can find something. Just give me a few minutes.”

I remembered seeing a section for
poetry, so I started to scan that shelf. It was sparse, barely enough to fill
one shelf. No Neruda, Cummings, not even a collection of Shakespeare’s Sonnets.
I pulled out a thin compilation and scanned the index.

“Here you go. Give this one a try.”

He took the book and read the title
of the poem. “‘She Walks In Beauty’. That sounds nice. I think she’ll like that
one.”

“I think so too. I’m sure Lord Byron
was very popular with the ladies.” I added without thinking, “And the guys.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. It’s a lovely poem. She’s
a lucky girl.”

The nervous young man finally smiled,
then dug in his pocket, pulling out a few wrinkled bills. He set them on the
desk next to me, then dug around again, pulling out a pile of change, and began
counting. I put the book in a bag and interrupted him. “Here. I think that one
is on sale. Keep the nickels.”

He smiled again, tucking the book
inside his jacket.

“Thanks for your help, ma’am.”

“You’re welcome. And it’s Jameson,
not ma’am. Good luck with your lady friend.”

He smiled again and headed out of
the door.

I sat down in the chair, tapping my
fingers on the desk, preparing for the next hour or so of boredom, when the
bells jingled once again.

“Welcome to Grand Central Station.”

“Excuse me?”

Father Mike was standing just inside
the door, brow furrowed, looking confused.

“Nothing. Just entertaining myself.
How can I help you?”

“I’m not exactly sure. Was there
just a young man in here? Red flannel, camo jacket?”

“Just left a minute before you got
here.”

Father Mike rubbed his chin,
forehead still wrinkled.

“Is there something wrong?”

“I don’t think so. Just a little
concerned about him late—” He paused, cutting himself off. “Did he buy anything
while he was in here?”

“Just a book of poems. Not anything
to worry about. No chemistry books or anything nefarious.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know, chemistry. Chemicals,
explosions, scary stuff?”  

Father Mike did not respond, looking
out the window over his shoulder.

“Sorry. Bad joke, I guess.”

“Right. Of course.” He nodded
absently, then met my eye. He laughed awkwardly and forced a smile. “Poetry.
You’re right, nothing to worry about there.”

“Right.”

He stood silently for a second,
biting his lower lip. “So...you work at the bookstore now?”

“It looks that way.”

“And I hear you’ll be volunteering
at the hospital.”

“Yup.”

“Good, good.” Father Mike looked out
the window then at me. “Well, I should leave you to it. I’ve got things...to
attend to.”

He stood motionless before pointing
towards the door and making his exit.

I watched as he stood on the sidewalk,
looking up and down the street before heading back towards the church.

I nearly rolled off the bed,
startled awake by a loud banging sound coming from downstairs. Grabbing the
wooden bat I kept by the bed, a leftover habit from living in the city, I
squinted as I checked the time on my phone.

4:13 AM.

It was cloudy outside, the moon a
waning crescent, so looking out the windows revealed little. The pounding came
again as I made my way down the stairs. This time, a voice followed.

“James! It’s Jack. Open up!”

Bat still in hand I threw the door
open. “What in the world, Jack? It’s—”

“I know. There was an accident and
Doc Matthews isn’t answering at his place. I need you to come with me to the
hospital.”

I was still gripping the bat, trying
to process what was happening. “Give me a sec to throw something on.”

I ran upstairs, threw on some
clothes, making sure to grab a sweatshirt. I ran back downstairs, combing my
fingers through my hair, tossing it into a ponytail, as I approached Jack
standing by the door. “Come on. Let’s get going.”

I jumped in the jeep, holding on to
the sides as Jack took off in the opposite direction of the road. The bumpy
ground threw me around my seat as I searched for a seat belt with one hand. I
looked at Jack, raising my voice to be heard above the Jeep’s engine, “Where
are we going?”

“Short cut,” he answered, keeping
his eyes on the road, or lack of it.

Within minutes, he cut left and I
felt myself lift out of the seat as we went over a particularly large bump. I
wondered how many times Jack navigated through the wood’s non-existent roads in
the middle of the night, hoping it was often enough we wouldn’t find ourselves
crashing into a tree. Allaying my fears, he took a sharp turn, landing us on
the main road, not thirty seconds from the clinic.

We pulled in front, Jack jumping out
and coming around to give me a hand out of the Jeep. With his hand on my back,
he rushed me inside. I could hear the sounds of someone sniffling and moaning.

“He’s over here.”

I walked in the room and recognized
the camo jacket and red flannel. The young man was lying on a bed in one of the
exam rooms, his flannel open and his white t-shirt soaked in blood.

I ran to the counter, grabbing
gloves and searching the drawers for gauze and saline. I turned to Jack. “I
don’t know where they keep anything in this place.”

“What do you need? I’ve helped the
Doc a time or two.”

I was next to the wounded man now,
tearing the t-shirt to get a better look at the source of the blood. There were
slashes across his ribs, nasty looking, deep enough to cause the bleeding and
considerable pain, but not so deep that he was in imminent danger. I took a
breath, gathering my thoughts.

“I need to clean the wounds, so
saline. Or at least some bottled water if you can’t find that. And gauze to
stop the bleeding.”

Jack left the room and returned
quickly with the items and I went to work cleaning the wounds. The patient
winced and moaned. I touched his arm, speaking in the most reassuring voice I
could. “I know, hon. It stings a little, but we’ll have you fixed up in no
time. My name is James, by the way. What’s yours?”

He sniffled and shut his eyes tight.
“Andy.”

“Can you tell me what happened,
Andy?”

The boy turned and moaned without an
answer.

“I’m going to leave you here for
just a second and see if we can’t do something about your pain, ok?”