Trouble in Paradise (21 page)

“He could use my help. I’m the only one who could make her
believe my half-truths as whole truth.” I laughed. “You sucked at story
telling.”

Brad pulled me up off the chaise and we walked poolside, sat
and put our feet in the water. “Why did you never get in more trouble when she
found out your stories were all b.s.? I think she was proud in some weird way
of hers when you pulled one over on her. That is, after she got over being mad.
She told me once that even when she was pretty sure it was a bold-faced lie,
there was that ten percent chance that you could be telling the truth.”

“I’m still smart enough to know the difference between
trouble and big trouble. Remember that time she went to Charleston and I threw
the party? I confessed before the police made a house call.”

“I have fond memories of that party. I had the kind of fun a
man likes to have.” Brad laughed.

“Man?” I laughed. “We were stupid teenagers.”

“What’s for dinner?” Brad asked, changing the subject.

“Your choices are take out or a restaurant.”

“Does that slug Jake deliver?”

“Watch this.” I picked up my phone. “Hi, Jake, my brother’s
here and wants dinner.”

“Do you ever cook?” Jake asked.

“Hmmm… Flag Day… special occasions like that,” I said.

On the other end of the line, Jake said, “It’ll be there in
a half hour. I’ll send a pitcher of margaritas and some assorted bottles of
that dark foreign beer Brad likes.”

“You’re the best!” We hung up.

Brad looked impressed. “You’re fitting in down here. I think
Elizabeth would be ecstatic. I just wished you had more sense than to rent to
the likes of the Shiners.”

“I didn’t. We asked around about those two. They are serious
scammers. They leech on to any new landlord in town. Everyone else knows
better.”

“Had a heart-to-heart with Kibble a few days ago,” Brad
said. “Told him he’d better not even look at you, and pack his shit, and hit
the road. If he was still at The Cottages when I got back from this next trip,
me, Frank and the boys would be there to move them out. Throw his stuff in the
street and light a match.”

“As in Frank, your crew guy that closely resembles a
gorilla? I bet Kibble didn’t take that well.” I didn’t let on how much Kibble
scared me; I didn’t want anything to happen to Brad. With any luck the Shiners
would pack and go onto their next scam.

“Left Kibble red-faced and sputtering but he didn’t say a
word. Just wanted to give you a heads up. I made it very clear if he wasn’t
careful he’d end up as chum.”

“Do you think Kibble would attract the kind of fish you need
to sell?” I asked, laughing.

“If we fed him to the sharks I doubt anyone would even file
a missing persons report, not even that train wreck of a wife. Keep a low
profile, I’ll be back in a week and he’ll be long gone.”

“Thanks, bro. Still looking out for me after all these
years.”

The doorbell rang. “Good, food’s here,” Brad said already
making his way into the kitchen to answer the door.

Opening my eyes, it was still dark outside, and my phone
rang incessantly. Who needed a ride home from the jail and why can’t these
people get arrested during the day? 

“Is this Madison Westin?” an annoying female voice asked.

It wasn’t the jail calling, no robocall asking me if I’d
accept the collect call. “What do you want this early in the morning?” Starting
tonight I’d be shutting off my phone when I went to bed.

“I’m calling for Apple Manning. She was brought into Cove
Hospital and would like to see you.”

I sat up more quickly than I would have thought. “Is she
okay?”

“She’s going to be fine and that’s all I can say to a
non-family member. Here she is.” 

“Madison please, please help me,” Apple mumbled. “She’s here
and she’s going to lock me up. Come right now or it will be too late.” Apple
started to cry. “I’m here because of you.” 

Apple was terrified of her mother, always referring to her
as ‘she’ or ‘her.’

A female voice in the background yelled, “Hang up that
phone!”           

I lived on one side of the Overseas Highway and the hospital
was located on the other side. This early in the morning, traffic was
non-existent.

The inside hospital lights were dimmed. I went to the
nurse’s station and lucked out; Mac’s drinking friend Shirl was on duty. They
both frequented The Boys’ Club together.

I asked Mac once, “Is copping a feel considered cheating?”

“It’s hard to get the money in those tiny G-strings without
your fingers straying,” Mac said, with a straight face.

“Hey, Shirl. I got a call from Apple Manning. I know it’s
not visiting hours, but can I sneak in her room?”

“Penny, one of the CNAs, called you. We feel sorry for
Apple, even if she is a hot mess. Apple’s fourth door down on the right, but
let me warn you, her watchdog mother is in the waiting room. She’s awaiting
paperwork giving her guardianship over her daughter. If she catches you in
there, you got there without any help from anyone who works here, got it?”

“Why is she here?” I asked.

“Does Apple have a pimp? She got the crap kicked out of her
and she’s not saying a word. Told the sheriff she didn’t remember anything.
Hogwash. There’s nothing wrong with that girl’s memory.”

“Pimp? As far as I know she panhandles.”

“Just sayin’. Working girls know better than to rat out
their pimp,” Shirl said.

I sighed and rolled my head around, trying to ease the
tension. I’d rather be doing a jail run. I scoped out the hall before opening
the door to Apple’s room. She looked like crap. Her face was swollen with dark
bruises, two black eyes, and swollen lips; a large piece of her hair was
missing in the front. Someone had worked her over pretty good.

“Apple,” I whispered and touched her shoulder lightly.

Her eyes flew open. “Get me out of here.” She grabbed my
arm. “Hurry she’s… please hurry… she’s going to lock me up again.”

“What happened?” I asked. They had done a good job of
cleaning her up, her hair looked washed, and she didn’t smell.

“Two guys snuck up on me while I was asleep. They dragged me
out of my box and beat the hell out of me. Told me that’s what happens when I
talk too much and, if they had to come back, I’d disappear. They forced me to
say ‘Thank you for the friendly warning.’ Then they kicked my box in the street
and threw my belongings in the alley.” She started to cry.

I patted her shoulder lightly. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you.”

“This time,” Apple stuttered, “I won’t get out of the
hospital. She threatened it would be a long term program.”

I handed her a Kleenex and the door opened.

“What in the hell are you doing in here?” A petite, dark
haired, older woman walked in and spoke with the authority of a general. “Who
are you anyway?”

“Madison Westin, a friend of Apple’s. I came to check on
her, make sure she’s doing okay.” 

“Tina Manning,” she introduced. “Someone like you is friends
with a homeless drunk?” She looked me over in my jean skirt and white zip sweat
shirt. “I remember now… wasn’t she involved with your husband?” She motioned me
to come out into the hall.

This wouldn’t be an easy situation to finesse and I didn’t
have a clue of what to say.

“Apple is my daughter and I’m here to make sure she gets the
care she needs. I think it would be a good idea if you left.”

“Your daughter is also a grown woman and would like a say in
the type of care she will be getting. I’m just here to do a little hand
holding.” The woman was intense. I didn’t want to be involved, but Apple was in
that bed because of information she sold me. I didn’t want to help Apple back
to her life on the streets nor did I want to see her end up in a mental
hospital. I was wedged tightly between a rock and another rock.

“Do you know what ‘none of your business’ means?”

“I’ve heard that phrase a time or two and generally ignore
it.” I smiled, thinking I was funny. She clearly did not.

Tina threatened, “I’m calling hospital security.”  I stopped
her.

“That won’t be necessary.” This situation needed Fab’s
expertise. “Do you mind if I say good-bye?”

“Yes I do. Leave and don’t contact her again. If you had any
self-respect after she screwed your husband, you’d keep on walking.”

My hand itched to make contact with her cheek but sense or
something came over me and I walked away, past the nurse’s station where Shirl
stood listening. I’m sure voices carried down the hall, as it was so quiet you
could hear that damn pin. I motioned Shirl to follow with my finger.

I knew Tina watched me leave. I turned the corner to the
front reception area and waited off to the side. “Shirl,” I whispered as she
rounded the corner.

“I’ve known Tina Manning for a long time and you did good
holding your own. It will take her a couple more hours before she gets the
court order to remove Apple. And Apple isn’t strong enough to leave here on her
own or she could sneak out the back door.”

“If I want to come back, is there another entrance? I don’t
want to walk by the waiting room.”

“Mac tells me stories and I pretty much thought she made
them up until now. You won’t shoot Tina will you?”

“I didn’t bring my gun. But if Apple wants to leave I’m
going to help her. I just need some assistance.”

Shirl laughed. “Come in through the emergency entrance.
They’re always busy down there and will never notice. Go through the double
doors on the right and follow the signs. For this little favor, I get to meet
Fab.”

“Done. What the hell am I going to do with Apple? Her
attackers destroyed her cardboard home, and I’m not sure I want to put her up.
But a mental hospital? I don’t think so.”

“I have an idea. Wendy from the local woman’s shelter is
here. Why don’t I send her your way, and maybe the two of you can come up with
an alternate plan that won’t keep you awake nights?”

“You do that and I’ll arrange a girl’s dinner,” I said. So
there could be a Plan C.

“Last time you invited Mac to dinner, she ended up at the
funeral home.” Shirl laughed. “Next time there’s a shindig at Tropical Slumber,
I’ll go.”

I was speechless for a moment. “Dickie would like that.”

Shirl showed me to the other side of the room and went to
find Wendy. I sat on the edge of a chair, in a darkened corner of the main
reception area.

When Wendy from Mercy House rounded the corner, I jumped up.
“So happy to see you.”

“Shirl filled me in on the Apple Manning case. Those are two
terrible choices, the street or a lock down ward. I do have a third option, if
Apple agrees. We could move her immediately and her mother, without legal
standing, couldn’t stop her daughter.” Wendy motioned me over to the coffee
machine.

“What are Apple’s options?” I shook my head when she offered
me a paper cup.

“Apple would need to sign herself into our detox center.
It’s not the old hard core program where the person goes cold turkey. It’s a
monitored slow withdrawal.  In her case, because she’s been abusing alcohol for
some time, to quit suddenly could land her back in the hospital. We wean her
off the alcohol and, once she’s sober, she can be transferred out of the
hospital and assigned a room at the shelter. There are plenty of programs to
help her get her life back on track.”

“Her mother can’t stop this?”

“Mrs. Manning can try, but I don’t know of a local judge
who’d yank someone out of a detox program, especially if no one was willing to
swear she’s in need of mental health care. If we were to determine otherwise,
then that would strengthen her mother’s case.”

“I’ve been acquainted with Apple for a few years and my
unprofessional opinion is that her problems stem mostly from alcohol abuse,” I
said.

“For those who are motivated, we have a reasonably high
success rate. Normally, there is a screening process to determine Apple’s
suitability for the program. In this case I can waive that requirement due to
the circumstances. I’m almost certain that Apple isn’t an ideal candidate, but
I’m willing to give it a try.”

“That’s very nice of you, for two women you barely know.”

“One day over coffee, I told my old friend Spoon what I
thought was a weird story about missing ashes. He laughed and vouched for you;
said you need to learn to say no to people. ‘Any friend of his’ type of thing.
His girlfriend Madeline wasn’t amused by the story,” Wendy said.

“She’s probably annoyed I failed to mention I was taking on
side jobs.” I recently decided on my afterlife choice. I wanted to be propped
up in someone’s kitchen like Mr. Q.

“Shall we go pitch the plan to Miss Apple and see what she
has to say?” Wendy asked as she threw her cup in the recycle bin.

“Apple’s mother is in the waiting area. We need to go around
through emergency so she won’t see us.”

“This way,” she motioned and we walked around the building
to the other entrance. The receptionist looked up, Wendy waved, and when we
walked around the last corner, I motioned to the waiting room. Wendy peeked in
and motioned me to follow. “Apple’s mother dozed off,” she whispered.

Wendy pushed the door open and walked over to the bed.
“Apple,” she said, pushing her hair back.

Apple’s eyes popped open. “Water,” she croaked. She looked
at me. “You came back. I didn’t think you would.”

Wendy held the cup and straw up to Apple’s mouth. “Apple you
have two options.” She outlined Apple’s choices in detail.

“Will I be locked up?” Apple asked.

“At any time you can make the decision to leave the detox
program or the shelter. You make your own choices but keep in mind there will
be a lot of good options to choose from.”

To my relief, it looked like Wendy had convinced her. It
surprised me that Apple didn’t ask about her preferable first choice to head
back to the streets. She was smart enough to realize that only a detox unit
would protect her from the long arms of her mother.