Chapter 44

 

THE GUY AT the airfield looked distracted at best as he took Renee through a load of forms. I didn’t really get what they were talking about and took a pencil and paper out to Aunt Bess instead. She was really intent on the flower, still eyeing it like it was treasure.

“It mean something to you?” I asked, handing her the pencil and paper.

She looked up, glee in her eyes. “No more than every other slice of beauty nature sprouts up.” She motioned for me to bend down. “Look at the petals, the way they curl on the edges. The hole, here, where something nibbled at it. A little flower with a whole lot of story.”

I looked down at it. I loved nature too. I loved the way the fields swayed in the winds and the green seeping up to a gloomy gray sky. “I ain’t ever looked at a single plant that way before.”

“An artist’s eye.” Aunt Bess sketched away. I watched in awe. It took her minutes to recreate the flower in great detail. “Some folks would pick it, would press it, removing that little slice of treasure for their own purpose.” She shook her head. “I’d rather thank it for giving me pleasure and go on my way.”

She walked over to a tap jutting out of a building nearby, picked up a turned over bucket, filled it, and headed back over. She watered the plant with such great love that I could almost see it glisten through the water.

The plant shimmered like it enjoyed the offering and I leaned against the wall pretty taken by the whole picture. “How come you know how to drive like that?”

Aunt Bess put the bucket back. “I had an adventurous youth.”

“You did?” I could see that there was a big wall around her. She weren’t giving much away.

“Shorty, there are some things that are best left where they lie.” She smiled at me. “What’s taking so long anyhow?”

I led her into the building and the guy looked like he was gonna fall asleep in his coffee. “Guessing he had a late night.”

Renee looked at us, impatience prickled through her aura. She was trying to be polite but I wondered if she’d reach over, take the forms off him, and fill them in.

“I can do the flight plan,” she said in a sweet voice with a, “my grandmother could do this faster than you,” underlying it.

“No, no. I like to make sure. It’ll just take a while.” He continued scribbling, nodding off, scribbling some more.

I wandered to the stairs on the right, wondering what was up there. I wasn’t the curious type though. Why’d it catch my attention?

 

Pain. So bad. Can’t move. I need help. Can’t reach the phone.

 

I glanced at the guy who was semi-awake.

“We need 911.” I met Renee’s eyes.

Her energy pulsed. She was up on her feet, cell out. “What, where?”

“Upstairs.”

The guy was wide awake now and hurrying over. “What you mean? There a fire? There’s no alarm.”

“Your wife. She fell down the stairs, right?” I met his eyes, seeing the double take. I didn’t have time for him to get to the right page. “The other day, she fell.”

He nodded. “Yes, yes . . . but how . . .”

“Broken neck,” I told Renee who was already busy talking to someone on her phone. “Two vertebrae, she doesn’t realize.”

Renee looked at the guy. “Where is she?”

He looked from Renee to me and to Aunt Bess as if she had some idea. “I . . . She . . . She’s gone to get her hair done.” He rubbed his chin. “She was in pain in the night.”

“Where?” Renee handed the phone to him. “Tell them exactly.”

He did so and Renee furrowed her brow. “We need to get through to the hairdresser. I hope she hasn’t had a cut and blow dry.”

I stared at her. Aunt Bess sucked in a breath like she understood.

“The sink. She’d have to lean over the sink,” Renee said.

My hands tingled at the thought.

The guy handed the phone back to her. “They are on their way.”

Renee nodded. “What’s the number of the place?”

His blank look was enough. I touched his hand, his wedding ring cutting into porky fingers. I read out the number, seeing it on the sign over the door.

He stared at me, snapped his hand away, and stared down at it. “How, what . . . how?”

“Go to her. We’ll file the forms and be on our way.” Renee touched his shoulder. “Best you don’t really say much about this.”

He was still staring up at me. “How . . . I . . . How . . .”

Aunt Bess leaned in. “She has a photographic memory. Saw it on the card on your desk. Go find your wife.”

The guy hurried out, yanking up his pants as he ran. I picked up the keys from the side, followed him out, and waited until he turned.

He jumped, gripping his truck as he caught sight of me.

I handed over the keys and smiled. “Kinda helps.”

He nodded, real slow, climbed in his truck, and screeched off.

I wandered back in, my head buzzing; Renee was firing instructions to the staff in the hairdressers; Aunt Bess was at the desk filling in the forms.

“You know how to do that?”

Aunt Bess waved her hand. “Concentratin’, Shorty.”

Renee raised an eyebrow at Aunt Bess but some kind of understanding replaced the curiosity and she continued her dialogue with some poor panicked hairdresser.

I wandered over to a beat-up old sofa in a corner of the office, sprawled out on it, and closed my eyes.

Have at it ladies, I was getting some rest.