Chapter 8

 

 

The next morning, it was back to the old drawing board. I had to start my search anew for a tow truck operator. Call me strange, but I preferred one whose hobby didn’t involve hookers. Again, I called the Sweet Meadow News-Leader.

“Classifieds,” a familiar voice answered at the local newspaper office.

“Carrie Sue? Is that you?” I asked.

“Hey, Bertie. How’s married life? You call to place a single’s ad?” She actually snorted on the other end of the line.

“No, I need to run another ad for a tow truck driver. The last one didn’t work out.”

“If the pay is right, I’ll take the job.” She cracked her gum.

“You? You can’t drive a tow truck.”

“If you can do it, how hard can it be?”

Was Carrie Sue pulling my leg or was she serious? I really couldn’t tell. Come to think of it, years ago I had seen her handle a dump truck like a pro. She maneuvered the vehicle with great precision as she backed up to her ex-husband’s beautifully landscaped yard and dumped two tons of chicken manure onto Fletcher MacMillan’s azaleas.

“How ’bout it, Bert? Give me a chance?” She sounded like she meant it.

“What about your job with the newspaper? You’ve been there for a while. Are you sure you want to give all that up?”

“Jim Ed’s been trying to fire me for a long time, but since I know enough about him to get him hung, he’s afraid to. I guarantee he’d be thrilled.” Carrie Sue moved the receiver away from her mouth. “Hey, boss,” she yelled in the distance. “I’m quitting.”

“Woohoo. Happy days are here again.” Jim Ed Swain, Editor of the local paper, cheered in the background.

“I’ll be right over, Bertie.” Carrie Sue disconnected me into utter silence. I stared into space, wondering what I’d gotten myself into. Sometimes I had a tough time being in the same town with Carrie Sue, but now we’d be working together. Every day. Jeeze, I’d also have to teach her how to operate the tow truck.

“Wait a minute.” I hung up the phone and headed toward the garage. “Linc?”

He slid out from under a car he was working on since he arrived that morning. Rising, he pulled an old rag from his back pocket and wiped grease from his hands.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I’m going to be hiring another driver so I don’t have to be operating the equipment until after my baby arrives. Would you have any objections to training someone for me?”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Bertie. I’ve never been very good at learning anyone anything.”

“You mean teaching anyone anything,” I corrected.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“You said . . . . Never mind. I think you’d do a very good job.”

Just then, the office door opened. I walked into the waiting area followed by Linc. Carrie Sue stood just inside the door.

“I’m here to start work as your new driver.” She saluted me.

Linc shoved me aside and rushed toward Carrie Sue. “And I’m here to teach you how to do just that.”

“Do you two know each other?” I’d never seen Linc react like . . . well, like a dog in heat. I shouldn’t think such crude thoughts about him. Normally, he was so timid and blushed for no reason.

“I’ve seen him around town.” Carrie Sue smiled up at him.

Linc grinned so wide if he had false teeth, they would have fallen out.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you, too.” He motioned for her to follow him outside. “Come on.” He held the door for Carrie Sue. “I’ll show you how to operate my levers.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun.” Carrie Sue giggled.

I shuddered.

 

Late in the afternoon, I received a phone call from a lady who said her name was Precious.

“What can I do for you, Precious?” Hopefully she would just need her car jump-started or a tire changed. Something easy that Linc could show Carrie Sue how to do and begin her training.

“I need to talk to the owner.”

Oh, darn, just a telemarketer. “I’m the owner but I’m not interested in buying anything today.” Before I could hang up, Precious bellowed into my ear in a voice edged with masculinity.

“I think I do have something you might be interested in. I have your man’s belt.”

This man/woman had Arch’s belt? How could that be? And why? “Wait a minute. Are you the prostitute who stole my driver’s keys?”

“You’re slow, but you catch on. Now, I’d be ever so happy to give your keys back to you.”

“Well, that’s nice. I’ll even be glad to come and pick them up. Where are you?”

“I’ll meet you on the corner of 45th and Pearl,” Precious said.

“How will I recognize you?”

“I’m six-foot-two and have legs that go all the way to my ears.” She snickered in a hoarse voice. “Also, I’ll be the only one with your keys. Bring forty dollars.”

“Why?”

“You really are slow, aren’t you? Bring forty dollars to pay me for the keys. The one time in my life I didn’t ask for the money up front, I did my job and then had to run before I got paid. Somebody’s gonna pay me. Bring cash.” She hung up.

Absolutely bum-fuddled, I told Linc I was going out. I didn’t have the nerve to tell him where I was going. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to tell anyone my keys were being held for ransom, or that I was paying for services rendered and I hadn’t received any services. Not that I would have wanted to, you understand. It was just the principal of the thing.

I moseyed over to the pink-light district of our fair town. (It was too small for a full-fledged red-light district.) I paid the ransom and got my keys back. Precious’ five o’clock shadow confirmed he was a man in drag, leaving me to wonder if Yuma’s eyesight was really that bad, or if his wife’s name really was Harry.

Then again, did I really want to know?

 

While on his lunch break, Arch called me at the garage.

“Hi, sweetheart.” His voice made my heart go pitty-pat. “Would you like me to help you write the ad for the newspaper? There’s no time like the present to start looking for someone to help you out.”

Bless his little heart. He could be so thoughtful. “I wrote the ad, called it in, hired someone, and they are being trained as we speak.”

“O-kay, then.” Arch cleared his throat. “It’s apparent you don’t need me. I’ll just be going back to my science class and whipping up a lethal concoction to have for lunch.”

“Of course I need you. You’re just so cute.” I cackled. “I hired Carrie Sue MacMillan,” I told Arch. “Linc’s out there now showing her how to operate the wrecker to load and unload a vehicle.”

I rose on tip-toes to see over a parked car to where the two of them stood. Linc had hooked up a vehicle and raised its front wheels off the ground. Carrie Sue clapped her hands, jumped up and down, then reached over and squeezed Linc’s muscle. Did she not realize the truck was doing all the work?

“I’m not sure how it will work out, but I’ll try her for a few days. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Arch whistled. “Oh, sweetheart, you know better than to tempt the fates by asking a question like that.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. Love ya.” I listened for his “love ya” and then I hung up the phone.

Arch did make a good point about my uncanny ability to make the unthinkable happen just because I thought it. As a precaution, I made a finger cross and spun around three times in my own ritual to ward off evil things. All I succeeded in doing was making myself dizzy.

 

The rest of my day was spent trying not to listen to Carrie Sue and Linc coo over each other. I thought the day would never end.

Arch and Petey picked me up at five o’clock, and we headed toward our little home on Marblehead Drive. The brown winter grass was showing signs of spring green. Arch already prepared the flowerbeds, once maintained by his father Pete. Impatiens and petunias would soon be planted, adding color throughout the yard.

When I climbed out of the car, the waistband of my jeans pulled tightly around my belly, which was growing at an alarming speed. At the rate it was going, by the end of summer I would be bigger than my little house on Marblehead Drive.

Heading up the walkway, I unbuttoned my pants. “I guess it’s time for me to get some maternity clothes.”

Arch held the door open for me and smiled.

“What are maternity clothes?” Petey asked. “Can I have some, too?”

She already traipsed into the house ahead of us and deposited her backpack onto the sofa. Snagging a store-bought cupcake from the kitchen counter, she ripped it open.

“Maternity clothes are what mommies-to-be wear while they are pregnant,” Arch told Petey. “The clothes fit loosely to allow room for the baby to grow in Mommy’s tummy.” He ruffled his daughter’s hair. “Of course, if you keep eating all that junk food, we may have to buy you some maternity clothes, too.”

Petey smiled up at him. Chocolate frosting blacked out several of her teeth. A mixture of laughter and happiness bubbled inside me like a fluttering butterfly. I rubbed my slightly bulging tummy. Was that what it felt like for the baby to move? It was so tiny, I couldn’t be sure.

Arch stood behind me and slipped his arms around me. He locked his fingers on top of my hand. “I love you,” he whispered against my ear.

I leaned against him. Sweet Meadow, Georgia equals heaven. Who would have thought it?

“Can I go with you to buy maternity clothes?” Petey swiped the back of her hand across her mouth.

“Sure, we’ll go Saturday and make it a mother-daughter day.” Reluctantly, I broke away from Arch’s arms. He gave me a love tap on my backside.

“Petey, go brush the chocolate out of your teeth and start your homework. I’ll have dinner ready in an hour or so.”

She picked up her backpack and disappeared down the hall toward her bedroom. Arch plopped into the recliner for an activity he called chilling out before dinner. Others might call it napping and snoring loud enough to crack the ceiling plaster. For me, it sounded like trumpets in my own little heaven.

 

Arch and I crawled into bed a few minutes after eleven. Petey had been asleep for a couple of hours. My exhausted husband dozed off quickly. Unfortunately, indigestion stood between sleep and me. Around twelve-forty-five, I gave up chasing my elusive dream state and chose to head to the kitchen for a snack.

I barely finished slapping a glob of cold spaghetti between two slices of buttered bread when a loud clap of thunder vibrated the kitchen floor. Through the window I saw lightning veining the sky, followed by another boomer.

I stared out into the darkness for a few minutes and had almost finished my sandwich. Looking beyond the top of Barbie’s house next door, and possibly as far away as downtown Sweet Meadow, I saw a humongous flash of light followed by a ball of fire that erupted into shooting sparks. I watched until the last embers died, and with it my kitchen light and all the streetlights. Must have been an exploding transformer I saw lighting the sky in the distance.

Rain began to beat against the pane. At first, slow, large drops fell, followed by a heavy downpour that sheeted across the glass. My stomach fluttered slightly. Placing my hand on my tummy, I waited for the movement to happen again. It did.

“Hello, my little butterfly,” I whispered. “I’m your mommy.” Happiness pulled my mouth into a wide smile. “I can’t wait for you to meet your daddy and your big sister. I know you’re going to love them.”

The kitchen light flickered and finally stayed on. Even with chilly air filling the room, my body warmed with the knowledge I really felt my baby move.

“Your whole family already loves you, little one,” I said. Before I turned off the light, I kissed the tips of my fingers and placed them on my belly. “Good night, Butterfly.”

 

The next morning I watched about all I could of Linc and Carrie Sue prancing around each other in what I could only describe as a mating ritual. I took her with me to fuel the truck. She drove; I leaned against the door and hoped to steal a few minutes of zzz’s I lost the night before.

Carrie Sue turned a corner, and I opened my eyes long enough to see exactly where we were.

“Stop.” I shoved away from the door. Carrie Sue slammed on the brakes. I had to place my hands on the dash to keep from bouncing my head against the windshield.

“Oh, my God.” Carrie Sue barely squeaked out the words, but I knew she witnessed the God-awful sight I just saw.

Parked in the middle of the road, I opened the truck door and slid from the seat. We were directly in front of the Keats’ house. On her front porch, as if this were the most natural thing she’d ever done, Millie sat in a patio chair making obscene gestures at passing cars—totally nude.

“Millie.” I ran up the walkway and climbed the few stairs to her porch. “What are you doing?” I tried to herd her inside. Each time I grabbed for her arm, she sidestepped me.

“You can’t see me, Bertie.” Millie placed her thumbs to her ears, wiggled her fingers, and stuck out her tongue. “I’m invisible.”

“The only thing you are is a nitwit.” I finally latched on to her arm and shoved her through the door. Several cars were stopped out front. All passengers stared in disbelief. I motioned for them to move along. “Show’s over,” I called to them.

Carrie Sue pulled the truck to the curb. I turned back to Millie. “Have you taken your medicine today?”

“You can’t be talking to me, because you can’t see me.”

I didn’t know where to look first. Her ash-colored skin held deep wrinkled creases all over her body except for her knees. They were smoother and more perfect than mine. Jeeze, my mind couldn’t begin to wrap around why that was. Her body appeared flat and thin and her once-ample breasts were that way, too. They appeared to be in a race for her waist. The left one was winning.

“I can see you. You are standing before me with no clothes. Why?” I looked around for something to cover her with. The lace tablecloth on her dining room table would do. I snatched it up and wrapped it around her.

“I was abducted by aliens. They crashed right outside my house last night. Made a hellava explosion. The lights went out. The aliens came in and took me on their space ship. When the lights came back on, I was invisible.” She started to remove her wrap, but I insisted she keep it on.

“What a hoot! I can run around naked and no one knows the difference.”

Everyone knows the difference, Millie. I can see you, all of you, as plain as day. Lightning hit a transformer last night. There were no aliens.” I shuddered. “Now, go put some clothes on.”

“Dang. I liked letting it all hang out. You take all my fun away, Bertie.” She stomped off to her bedroom like a child.

While I waited for her to put some clothes on, I studied the many pictures scattered on the mantel. Inside a silver engraved frame, I saw a faded picture of Michael Keats, Millie’s only son. Long before I was even born, he was killed in a battle in Vietnam. Many times I listened to Millie talk about Mike as if he was the only young man who had died in a war.

Looking closer, I read the words etched into the metal. “Sweet Meadow’s Hero. Mama’s Little Boy.”

Instantly I thought of Petey and the baby growing inside me. A crushing sadness forced tears to my eyes. Not until that moment had I realized the magnitude of Millie’s pain from losing her son.

The next picture reminded me Mike hadn’t been her only loss. She also outlived her beloved husband, John. I had to wonder if perhaps Millie’s nuttiness was her way of dealing with the loneliness. How would I ever be able to handle everyday life without the ones I loved? I closed my eyes and prayed it would be a long time, if ever, before I had to find out.

A loud knock on the door yanked me from my painful trance. Deputy Carl Kelly waited on the front porch. I opened the screen and motioned for him to come in.

“Where’s Mrs. Keats?” Carl removed his hat.

“She getting dres . . . uh, she’s in the bathroom. She’ll be right out. What are you doing here?”

“I got a report that Mrs. Keats was exposing herself to the passing traffic. That’s the second time this week I’ve been called out here for that.” The deputy slapped his hat against his leg and stared at the floor. “I’m going to have to take her in for a psychiatric evaluation.”

“Carl.” I grabbed him by his shirt front. “You can’t take poor Millie in. You know she’s harmless.” At least I hoped she was.

He pulled free from my grasp. “Ah, Bertie, I’d rather be pistol whipped than run her in, but she hasn’t left me any choice.”

“You didn’t see her without clothes, did you?” I asked.

“No, but others did, and they want something done about it,” Carl barked.

“Something done about what?” Millie’s voice caused Carl and me to jerk toward the hallway entrance. Thankfully, she was handsomely and fully dressed in a flowered day dress, support stockings, and sensible orthopedic shoes.

I turned back to Carl. “See. She’s fine.”

“But how long will she stay that way?” At least he wasn’t yelling.

“Excuse me. Old woman entering the room.” Millie walked in our direction. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here. I’m not invisible, you know.”

I put my arm around her shoulder. “Sorry, honey. Do you know Deputy Kelly?”

Millie nodded.

“He’s here because someone called in a complaint. They said you were flashing the passing traffic. He also said he’s been here before for the same thing. You know it wouldn’t be right to do that, don’t you, Millie?” If she didn’t go along with me, she would soon be headed to the county hospital. “So, tell him he doesn’t have to worry about that, okay?”

Millie looked at me for a fleeting second and then turned to Carl. “I may have made a slight error in judgment, deputy. However, I’ve learned from my foolishness. I promise to walk the straight and narrow path of justice in a fully-clothed manner because I almost froze my tutu off.” She cocked her head to the side then flashed a smile that could melt the hardest heart. Millie batted her eyes at Carl.

He made a choking sound and burst into laughter. “Okay, Mrs. Keats, I won’t make you go with me today, but you better be on your best behavior. If I am called out here again, I’ll have no choice but to take you in for evaluation. Do you understand?”

“No clothes, Millie goes.” The elderly woman summed it up very well. “Got it.”

 

Carrie Sue and I fueled the tow truck and headed back to the garage. The windows were rolled down, and lukewarm air swirled around us, making my hair dance around my face. As we passed a few long-time businesses along the way, I wondered what I might have been had I not followed in Pop’s footsteps.

Zell Anne’s School of Dance and One-Day Laundry had been a member of Sweet Meadow’s Chamber of Commerce for at least thirty years. Carrie Sue, her sisters, Mary Lou, and I took dancing lessons when we were children. Much to Miss Zell Anne’s dismay, I couldn’t master the shuffle-ball-change step, the split, or back bend. Come to think of it, just putting on my leotard challenged me. Although the others hung in there until they were teenagers, I only lasted one year. So I scratched dance instructor and Rockette off my list of possible occupations.

The Chow Pal Diner? The best I could cook was Spaghetti-O’s. Head chef was out of the question.

Carrie Sue stopped at a red light in front of Sweet Meadow Elementary School. Now, there’s a job I thought about earlier in my life. Teacher. How wonderful it would be to guide little children, pump up their confidence, and mold their minds. A vision from the past flashed through my mind—first-grade teacher Mrs. Orr opening her lunch box and a happy green snake slithering out. My brother Bobby received three swats. Mrs. Orr took three days off.

I rubbed the armrest of my tow truck. I’d made the perfect decision. After all, look at all the interesting people I met pulling vehicles out of ditches, away from accident scenes, and into repair facilities.

The thought of some of them made me shiver.

“Bertie.” Carrie Sue broke my reverie. “Isn’t Linc the hottest guy you’ve met in a long time?”

Speaking of shivers. I literally shook in my seat. “Well . . . uh . . . I don’t think I can legally think of my employee that way. I believe it could be sexual harassment.” Or, just plain crazy.

“Surely being married didn’t take away your ability to appreciate the opposite sex, did it?”

“Of course not.” We arrived back at the garage and the object of our conversation was delivering a car to a customer. I’d grown quite fond of Linc, and, in a strange sort of way, he was kind of cute. Like a lost puppy. “So, are you falling for him?” I asked.

“I think so.”

Carrie Sue hadn’t had good luck where men were concerned, not that I had either until Arch came into my life. But she deserved some happiness, and Linc seemed to feel the same about her.

“Well, I’m happy for you.”

With the tow truck nosed right up to the big picture window of the office, she shut off the engine. Through the plate glass I saw Pop pick up the radio. A second later he keyed it, and his voice echoed through the cab of the truck.

“Bertie, are you there?”

I keyed mine up. “Yoohoo, Pop. Look out the window.”

“Which window?”

“For crying out loud. The front one.”

Finally he looked right at me, waved, and then punched the button on the radio again.

“Bertie, are you there?”

I banged my head against the passenger window. What was I going to do with Pop? Some days he was at the top of his game, whatever that was. But at other times he was a slice of bread short of a full sandwich. Although the doctor assured all of us everything was fine in his brain’s power house, I couldn’t help but worry about him. Especially when his technical responses seemed to be mal-functioning.

“Bertie, answer me,” Pop shouted through the radio again.

I swiped a runaway tear from my cheek and went inside the office. I rounded the end of the counter and removed the mike from my father’s hand.

“Have you taken your blood pressure medicine today?” I asked.

“Soy-tin-lee.” He screwed up the word with a silly accent to make me laugh, but I felt sad. I didn’t want there to be anything wrong with my wonderful father. I loved him and needed him to be around for a long time. And if it wasn’t too much to ask, I hoped he’d have most of his faculties about him, at least long enough to see his grandchild I was carrying.

Tears bombarded my eyes, and I couldn’t control them any longer. I threw myself into Pop’s arms and sobbed.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Pop stroked my hair and held me tight.

“I worry about you, Pop. I mean . . . well, I was sitting right there in front of you and you act like you didn’t even see me.”

“Oh, Bertie, I know what’s wrong with you. You forgot to take your sense-of-humor pill, because I was kidding around. I know how much it bugs you when I don’t jump right into the crux of my dispatch. I saw you pull up, and I was chuckling my heart out in here. I had no idea I was distressing you. I’ll tell you what. I won’t tease you like that anymore. At least until after my grandbaby arrives and you get your hormones under control.”

He handed me a paper towel, and as I blew my nose I looked at Pop. How did he know what was really wrong with me? Evidently, the question registered in my eyes.

“Don’t forget, young lady, I’m the father of three. If you think I’m nuts, be glad you didn’t have to live through twenty-seven months of baby hormones with your mother. Talk about a train not clacking exactly on a track. Wow.”

Okay, things weren’t as bad as I thought where Pop was concerned. For that blessing, I’d say a special thank-you prayer that night.