Chapter Thirty-Eight

Craig cooked me breakfast. He’d slept on the couch last night, saying he didn’t want to leave me alone. Wasn’t he thoughtful. It was like he instinctively knew I was too sore to stand someone else in my bed. The domestic scene, as he dished up my eggs and slightly burnt toast, was so sweet that it made me a bit sad. I had to remind myself he would be going back to his life soon. He was a white picket fence kind of guy. I was a Carney who knew the middle class life wasn’t for me.

The conversation over the meal was mostly about our lives. Instinctively, he seemed to know how little I wanted to talk about the past couple of days. He was telling me a story about his Grandfather Max, when we heard Janie’s raspy shout, “Hey, Rube”.

I grabbed my baseball bat and was out the door without thinking. Craig was on my heels. Zach squawked and jumped in his cage as we dashed past.

“What’s happening?” Craig panted as we ran.

“Something bad. Janie needs help,” I replied.

As we approached Janie’s trailer, I could see her in her bathrobe, standing over a crumpled form on the ground. She was holding a baseball bat at the ready. A dozen others were approaching from all directions. They were all carrying some sort of weapon. Among the approaching crowd was Detective Madison of all people. He had a gun out.

“Pull a knife on me, you son-of-a-bitch,” Janie shouted and kicked the crumpled form in the general vicinity of his gonads.

Mister D, wearing only pajama bottoms, arrived and took the bat from Janie. He moved her back from the writhing form on the ground. He handed her to Freddie the Geek, who was out on the steps of her trailer. Freddie was naked except for saggy grey drawers, which at one time would have been tighty whities. He hadn’t put in his teeth yet—not an appetizing sight this early in the morning.

Detective Madison came up. He kicked the knife away from the man on the ground. When he hauled him up, I shouted, “That’s the guy who killed Mike!”

The Reverend Parris stared at me with his eyes wide. A purple swelling was starting along the side of his face. Janie must have jumped up to hit him so high. Madison spun him around and efficiently applied handcuffs.

The Reverend shrieked, “Witch, I’ll send you to Hell.”

“Not likely, you psycho son-of-a-bitch,” I shouted back.

The crowd of Carnies muttered and shared glances. I realized, even with two cops present, violence was imminent. Madison had the Reverend up against the trailer, frisking him, as he recited the Miranda Rights. I doubt he realized the danger.

Craig whispered to me, “We don’t want more trouble.” He had his hand close to his gun.

I nodded and caught Eddie’s eye and made a quick gesture with my head. His jaw clenched, but he did his job. “All right everybody, the police are here. We can settle down.”

Madison looked around. He realized the people who surrounded him carried an assortment of weapons. He pushed Parris up against the wall and turned to face the crowd.

Eddie continued, “The police can take it from here. They got this bastard dead to rights. He’ll pay for killing Mike and taking Airy.”

All eyes turned to Mister D. He gave a short nod. His brow was so furrowed, you could barely see his eyes. The crowd dispersed as quickly as they’d gathered, egged on by the sound of approaching police sirens.

We waited until the uniformed police arrived. Janie was in rare form and at full volume, describing how she had seen Parris sneaking around her trailer. “When I saw his knife, I jumped up and wacked the fucker upside his head. I should have…” I do believe she was making up some of the colorful epitaphs she was using. Either that, or she had somehow learned how to swear in Arabic.

Craig walked over to assure Madison we would come to the police station later for formal statements. “I’ll also want to know how you happened to show up here this morning,” Craig said to Madison. I didn’t understand why Craig was frowning.

I felt the faint fairy buzz which said Sam was near. He hugged me from behind. “Are you all right, Sister?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” I patted his hand and wiggled out of his embrace. “Sam, this is my friend Craig. He is with the FBI.”

Craig held out his hand. Sam looked at it for a moment and then took it. “I’m pleased to meet you, Sam,” Craig said. “Are you the one who picked up Airy yesterday?”

“Yes,” Sam said. “I brought her clothes. We rode a cab home.” Sam turned to me and asked, “Airy, do you want me to do anything to the man who killed Mike and took you away?” He had an eager gleam in his eye. I hated to think what he meant by his off-hand comment.

“No, Sam. The police will take care of him now. He’ll be in jail. I’m safe. Why don’t you go and see if Mister D needs any help?”

Sam wandered off. On the way back to my trailer, I explained to Craig that Sam was a little slow. Craig walked stiffly with his hands clenched.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. We sat down outside my place.

Zach said, “Hell’o” from his cage. I opened the door so he could walk around. He looked a little less like a pin-cushion, but he still couldn’t fly.

“Madison set you up as bait. He figured Parris would come for you.” Craig slammed his hand on the table. “Totally irresponsible, somebody could have been killed. Madison should be brought up on charges.”

“It’s all right. He caught him. You were here. Parris couldn’t have got to me. No harm, no foul.”

Craig jumped up and started pacing. “He had a knife, Airy. Your friend Janie was lucky. She’s an old lady.”

“I wouldn’t say old lady to Janie’s face. You might find out first-hand how well she swings a bat,” I said.

“In any case, Madison should have picked the guy up as soon as he was seen.” Zach strutted along parallel to Craig, mocking his agitated walk. Craig noticed and grinned. Zach flapped his wings and called, “Caw haw haw haw haw.” Craig flopped into a chair. “I just hate to think he risked you.”

My white knight.

I sent Craig to check on Janie, with the excuse of getting fish food for Frank. I went to check on Myra. I was a little worried. I hadn’t seen her at Janie’s this morning. I found her still in bed in the girl’s bunkhouse. I sat down next to her and brushed the greasy hair off her pale face. “Hey, kiddo. How you feeling?”

“I think there is some dog crap somewhere that feels worse than me.” Her voice was weak and raspy.

“Have you been taking your medicine?”

She nodded. “And I haven’t been drinking.”

“Oh, sweetie. I should be taking better care of you,” I said.

“I guess you’ve been a little busy, what with the kidnapping and all. At least you finally got laid.” She gave me an echo of her sassy smile without lifting her head. “I heard he’s cute, but after years of being picky, I can’t believe you’d do a cop.” She coughed from deep in her lungs. When she leaned over the edge of the bed, I saw a purple lesion on her back.

“You know how love is. It picks you,” I said absently, patting her back. “I’m going to go get Doc. He can look at my stitches and check on you.”

“Yeah, that might be a good idea,” she said, between wracking coughs.

Doc took one look at Myra and said “hospital”. Myra didn’t even protest. Craig drove us. I wanted to stay with Myra, but we had to go to the police station. Doc said he would stay. I promised to be back as soon as possible.

“I’m sorry to have dragged you into all this drama,” I told Craig.

“You care about people. I knew that about you. It’s one of the reasons I stayed the other night.” He grinned at me.

“How’d you know that about me?”

“I guess I must be psychic.”