***
I'D KNOWN THE district attorney, Reggie Borders, since I was little. His daughter Bonnie and I had been best friends from kindergarten through high school, and we were still friends. She’d married Danny Goudeaux, a guy who was a year ahead of us in school, and they had two boys, about two and three years old.
I drove to the Borders' home after Mass on Sunday. I knew the entire family would be gathered there for dinner and an afternoon around the pool. That's how they'd spent every summer Sunday since I was a child. I'd often been there for sleepovers on Saturday nights, then I'd attend Mass with the family the next morning. All of their kids and lots of friends would gather for a big noon meal and a leisurely afternoon of croquet, tetherball, badminton, and swimming.
I felt like one of the Borders kids, especially after Mama left Daddy and moved to Houston when I was fifteen. I think Mrs. Phyllis Borders felt sorry for me and pulled me in like a mother hen.
No one was surprised to see me when I walked through the back gate with my swim bag over my shoulder.
"Hey, Sissy!" Each one yelled "Hi" at me, and Bonnie came running over to hug me. Her older brothers Jules and Frank were there with their wives and children, although I didn't know which kids belonged to which parents. Bonnie's younger sister, Emily, and a couple of girls she'd brought home from college were sunbathing on lounge chairs near the pool. The youngest brother, Stephen, who was still in high school, sulked on a stool at the far side of the pool. I felt a heart-tug for him because I knew he'd rather be anywhere else, and I could remember feeling that way when I was his age and had been forced to be with my family.
Now I wished I had a family.
I changed into my swimsuit and accepted a beer from Mr. Reggie. Bonnie and Danny got into the pool and were trying to teach the little boys to float. The bigger kids were in the deep end, jumping off the diving board, competing to create the largest splash.
I sat at the oval table with an umbrella stuck through the center hole. Mrs. Phyllis and Mr. Reggie sat in two of the chairs, with Jules and his wife, Lisa across from them. I was on one end, and no one sat in the sixth chair.
"How's Susie?" Mrs. Phyllis patted my hand and looked directly at me. She was the type who made you feel as though the whole world stopped when you talked because she listened so intently. She nodded and squeezed my hand, and tilted her head sideways as though I were the only person at the table.
"She's better. It's been touch-and-go. Dr. Switzer moved her out of ICU Wednesday, and she's starting to say a few words." I spoke loud enough for everyone at the table to hear.
"I'm glad, honey. We've been so worried." Mrs. Phyllis patted my hand and ran her other hand through her short, brown hair, cut like Dorothy Hamill. I wanted to ask her why she hadn't visited Susie, if she was so worried, but I held my tongue. I had a more important mission to accomplish.
"We're still worried about brain damage." I looked around the table and everyone had concerned expressions. "We are very worried about Rodney. He might not make it." I stared directly at Mr. Reggie. He nodded but didn't respond. We were all quiet for a while and sipped our beer. Mrs. Phyllis was drinking wine, as usual.
"Do you know who did it?" I stared at Reggie Borders, Toussaint Parish district attorney. Everyone looked at him. He couldn't hold my stare and lowered his eyes, but didn't answer my question. "Is anyone interested in finding out?" Still no response. Jules began to shift in his seat, and his wife got up to dig around in the ice chest for a beer. Mrs. Phyllis called to one of her granddaughters who was walking towards the diving board. The girl, about eight years old, came running over and sat on her grandmother's lap. Mrs. Phyllis jumped up because now her shorts and shirt were wet and she needed a towel. Jules got up to help his wife.
That left only Mr. Reggie and me at the table.
"Are you going to pursue it, Mr. Reggie?" I stared at him while he looked at the tabletop.
"That's up to the sheriff, Sissy." He pushed his chair away from the table and walked off.
I got in the pool and played with Bonnie and her kids for a while, then I changed back into my jeans and blouse, told everyone goodbye and went home to my apartment on Gravier Road.
*
I loved my little place above Susie's detached garage. It had one bedroom, a study that could serve as a small spare bedroom, a living room and kitchen combination, a fairly nice-sized master bedroom with an en suite bathroom and, my favorite room, a deck off the kitchen that faced the huge park-like backyard. I had a swing and two rocking chairs on the porch, which was about fifteen feet above the ground.
I sat on the swing with a glass of lemonade and thought about how to find out who shot Rodney in a town that was run by privileged white men who would prefer if all the black and brown people moved away. There was still a faction of the Ku Klux Klan in town, although I had no idea who the members were.
The next morning I went to the Toussaint Parish Sheriff's Department. I tapped on the glass window where a woman with large glasses and hair teased like a rat's nest was turned sideways to the window typing on a manual typewriter. She told me I needed to file a complaint and gave me a clipboard with six pages of forms to fill out.
"But someone was shot. That's a crime, not a complaint." I stood at the window and thumped my fingernails on the counter.
"If it was a crime inside the city limits, there should be a police report. Check with the city police department." She closed the sliding glass across the window and returned to the typewriter.
I went to the police department, and a woman who could have been the twin of the one at the sheriff's office sat with her back to the same type of sliding window and gave me the same runaround.
"Why isn't there a police report? There were three city police units at the scene." I glared at her as though she could manufacture a piece of paper that didn't exist. She got up and walked to the copy machine, and all I saw was the back of her gaudy red blouse with frilly sleeves that got caught with the paper on the machine when she closed the top.
I went to the hospital. Susie looked better and was able to say a few words that I understood, although she was frustrated that she couldn't get an actual sentence to come out of her mouth.
"I talked to Mama last night. I think she's coming to see you tomorrow." I stood on the side of Susie's bed, holding her hand.
She smiled and tried to move her head, then winced.
"Are you in pain?" I fluffed her pillow and fitted it around her neck to keep her head wound from touching the bed.
"Nooooo, I'm. Ohhh. Kay." Susie never complained. I could remember her with black eyes, stitches across her cheek or under her chin, a sprained wrist or ankle, and other injuries my dad had inflicted on her. She would act as though nothing was wrong.
"I don't guess you'd tell me if you were hurting, would you?" I smiled at her, and she giggled and shook her head a little, then winced again. "I'll leave you alone. I think I'm making you hurt."
She winked at me when I left. I walked down the hall towards the cafeteria and ran into Marianne.
"I was going to check on Susie." Marianne stopped to hug me.
"I just left her. I think she needs some rest." I hugged Mari and took a step back. "Hey, do you have a minute to chat?"
"Sure." Marianne led the way to the cafeteria where we got cups of coffee and sat at a table in the far corner. I told her about my attempts with Reggie Borders, the sheriff's department, and the city police. She wasn't surprised that I'd hit dead ends everywhere.
"What else can I do? Surely there's a police report." I stirred my coffee and added some cream.
"They've buried it. Maybe you should give up."
"There has to be someone who can help." I thumped my fingers on the table as though I were playing the piano.
*
I drove to James's office and walked past his secretary into his inner sanctum. There was a client in the chair facing James, who sat behind his desk.
"I need to talk to you." I had my hands on my hips and stood with my legs spread.
"Sissy, I'm busy. Can you come back later?" He lifted his eyes to look at me, his chin still pointing towards his desk.
"No. I have to talk to you now."
James apologized to his client, got out of this chair, and took me by the elbow. He practically pushed me out the door, down the hall, and into the library. "What can be so important that you interrupt me when I'm with a client?"
"You said you'd help me find out who shot Rodney. I've been to the sheriff's office and the city police department, and neither has a report. They aren't even looking for the shooter." I stared at my brother who was at least a foot taller than me. "I need your help."
"Okay, I'll call the sheriff. Go home. I'll call you when I know something." He turned and left me in the library. I stood there not thinking about anything specific, then I noticed a file on the table that said, "June 30, 1984." I picked up the manila folder and flipped through some of the pages. There were names I recognized: Tucker Thevenot and Keith Rousseau. They were a couple of Warren's renegade friends. I shivered when I thought of some of the things I'd seen them do to black people.
There were some figures on one of the pages: $500, and $1000. There were other things I didn't understand: bank statements, copies of drivers’ licenses, and other numbers such as ‘37L402’, which didn't mean anything to me, but I memorized it anyway, by playing a mind game where I attached the number ‘37’ to my brother, James, who was thirty-seven years old. The ‘L’, of course, stood for Louisiana; and ‘4-0-2’, well, that was like saying 2-4-6-8-10, only without the 6 or the 8, and backwards. 4-2 with the 0 from the 10 in the middle.
Sometimes I worried about how my mind worked.
*
Mama arrived from Houston on Tuesday. She was dressed in a green, silk dress with a suede jacket and huge, diamond earrings. There were so many bracelets on her arms that she jingled as she walked down the hall. Her high heels clicked on the tiled floor and turned heads as she waltzed by. I stayed with her in Susie's room most of the afternoon while Mama read from a book of Shakespeare, then from Gone With The Wind. When she left she mentioned she'd be staying at a hotel in Alexandria and would return the next day.
The next afternoon, I peeked through the glass on the door to Susie's room and watched Mama kiss Susie on the forehead, say a few words, then walk out. Mama threw the door open and walked into the hall. She stopped to kiss me on the cheek and told me she'd be returning to Houston, and to please keep her informed about Susie's condition. She didn't speak to anyone as she strutted down the long corridor and out the front door of the hospital. I laughed at the metamorphosis from the plain Jane, cowering wife of my dad, to the now wealthy Houston socialite kept-woman who was our mother.
"Hi. How was the visit, Mom?" I stood at the foot of Susie's bed and pinched her toes through the sheets. Marianne walked in behind me.
"Nice." She spread the word out like soft butter on a soft, baked biscuit, and she had a frown across her brow.
"She's worried about you," I said.
Marianne walked around to the side of Susie's bed and shined her penlight in Susie's eyes. "You're getting better every day. How's the pain?"
"Ohhhh. Kay." She closed her eyes for a few seconds, then she looked up at me, then at Mari, her brow wrinkled and eyebrows lifted as though she had a huge question to ask.
"You want to know about Rodney?" Marianne sat in the chair near Susie's bed, and I stood at the foot of the bed, my hands holding Susie's feet through the sheet and blanket.
"Yes."
"He's hanging in there. There's not much more I can tell you." Marianne held Susie's hand. "I was thinking about driving to New Orleans tomorrow on my day off, if it's okay with you that I leave?"
Susie opened her eyes with a jerk and blinked rapidly, then turned her head to look at Mari. She winced as though the movement caused a great deal of pain.
"I take it that means you want me to go. Blink once for yes."
"Yes." She blinked, then looked at me.
"Okay, but when I come back, I'm going to tell you the truth." Marianne squeezed Susie's hand. "You've been through more than most thirty-three year olds, so I trust you can handle whatever the truth is."
Susie blinked once, closed her eyes, turned her head, and stared at the ceiling through her eyelids. Mari didn't talk anymore, and I hoped Susie was going to sleep.
Lilly came into the room and Marianne asked us to step into the hall. She told Lilly she was going to New Orleans to see Rodney. Lilly begged Mari to take her. They both looked at me.
"You two go on and see about Rod. I'll hold down the fort." I laughed as their expressions broke into smiles, which I knew had as much to do with their amusement at the way I talked as with their happiness with my answer.
*
"If you've never seen a man on life support, with tubes in every orifice, cylinders next to the bed, some pumping oxygen, blood, and medicines in; some taking urine, drainage, and air out; you have been spared," Marianne told me on the phone from New Orleans. "As a nurse, I've seen lots of people on life support, but never someone I loved."
Rodney was two years older than Marianne, and he was more like a big brother than a cousin. Mari told me that since she'd never had a brother, Rodney was the one who had protected her, taught her how to cut cane, shuck corn, and play ball. He'd made her into a tomboy because she'd wanted to impress him and hated it when he called her a silly girl.
"The sounds of beeping and gurgling flooded the ICU room where my big, tall, handsome cousin lies comatose with tubes and machines surrounding him." Marianne choked down a sob and said that if Lilly had not been there, she might have fallen apart.
"I spoke with the nurse who manages the monitors. She told me that they took him off the medication to induce a coma, but he hadn't come around. She said they'd removed the bullets, but there might be fragments in his brain that are causing him to remain unconscious.
"I walked into the room with Lilly so close behind me I could feel her breath on the back of my neck," Mari said. "I found Rodney's hand under the sheet and pulled it out. There was an IV line in the side of his wrist. I stroked the top of his hand and whispered to him.
"'Hi, Rod. It's me, Marianne. If you can hear me, blink your eyes.' I waited, but there was no movement. I told him Susie was fine and would come to visit him as soon as the doctor allowed her to travel. 'She's fine. Do you understand?' I thought I saw a slight movement of his eyelashes.
"Then I said, 'Lilly is with me.' His eyelashes lifted ever so slightly, then fell. I pulled Lilly around to the front of me, held her shoulders from behind, and told her to hold his hand and talk to him."
"'Dad. Rodney. It's me. Lilly.' Her voice caught in her throat. 'I want you to wake up. I'm worried.'
"Sissy, you won't believe what happened next. I watched Rodney over Lilly's shoulder and his eyelashes raised and lowered twice. Lilly said, 'Rodney. I love you. Susie loves you. We want you to come home.' Lilly started to cry softly and squeezed Rodney's hand. He turned his head towards her, ever so slightly. It was a small movement, but was so significant that the nurse burst through the door and stood at the foot of the bed. His eyelashes lifted so that we could see a sliver of the whites of both eyes, then they lowered to his cheeks.
"'I think he squeezed my hand,' Lilly looked at me sideways over her shoulder. 'Rodney. Dad. Please squeeze my hand again. She looked down at their hands entwined on top of the sheet, and I watched as his long fingers encircled her hand and gripped it; not tightly, but his hand encompassed all of hers, and his eyelashes fluttered several times. Lilly couldn't hold her emotions any longer, and she laid her head on top of their hands and cried.
"Sissy, the most miraculous thing happened. Rodney lifted his other hand, pulled it out from under the sheet and reached over to stroke Lilly's hair. I felt tears stream down my face, but I couldn't move." Marianne had tears in her voice. I gripped the phone receiver and held my breath.
"Rodney's lips turned upward on the corners, and the edges of his eyes lifted as he rested his fingers on Lilly's hair. I squeezed her shoulders to keep myself from collapsing. I'm not sure how long we stayed there before Rodney fell asleep and his hand became heavy on Lilly's head. I lifted the long, strong fingers and put his palm on his stomach on top of the sheet and pulled Lilly away from the bed.
Lilly became hysterical.
"'Is he dead? What's wrong?' She grabbed Rodney's hand with both of hers and began to shake it. I told her he'd fallen asleep because what he had done took a lot of energy. I moved her away from the bed so the nurse could get close to Rodney to check his pulse and listen to his heart rate.
"'He's fine.' The nurse turned and looked at Lilly and me. 'Just sleeping for now. Let's let him rest, okay? He knew you. That's a great sign. I want to call his doctor. Would you mind stepping out for a while?'
"Lilly and I went down to the cafeteria and got cold drinks. We sat in a booth in the corner of the room and were quiet for a long time. I asked her whether she'd like to stay overnight so she could see Rodney in the morning. She looked up at me through those thick lashes and reminded me so much of Rodney in that moment.
"'I'd like that, Aunt Mari. Thank you.' She looked back down, and I realized it was the first time she'd called me, 'Aunt.' I wondered if today had been the first time she'd called Rodney, 'Dad.'
"We got a room at the Brenthouse." Marianne sounded as though she wanted my permission to stay in New Orleans another day. "It's the hotel connected to Ochsner Medical Center for patients and visitors. What do you think?"
"I think that's a great idea." I turned to look at Susie, whose eyes were as large as grapefruits. "I'll tell Susie everything you told me, and I won't leave her."
"Can you put the phone near Susie's ear?" Marianne said Lilly wanted to talk to her mom.
I whispered to Susie that Lilly wanted to speak to her, and I put the phone near Susie's ear.
"Ho." Susie's voice was weak, but I could hear the excitement in her small word. I don't know what Lilly said, but Susie whispered, "Yes."
I put my ear next to the phone, so I could listen in.
"Mom? I mean, Susie?" Lilly was close to tears, and I heard Marianne say something to her. "Mom. Dad woke up, sort of. I mean, he knew me." Lilly's voice cracked, but she held it together. "I mean, Rodney. He squeezed my hand. He put his hand on my head. He blinked his eyes when I talked to him."
"That's won-der-fulllll." Susie had tears the size of golf balls running down her cheeks.
"I told you he'd be alright." I took the phone away from her ear so I could talk to Marianne.
"Sounds like good news, right?" I spoke softly, afraid of the answer. Marianne said the doctor would check on Rod the next day, but in her opinion, it was a good sign. I spent the next two hours telling Susie what Marianne had described, and answering Susie's repeated questions over and over to reassure her.
*
Marianne called the next day to tell me that she and Lilly had met Rodney's doctor.
"We were in the ICU waiting room fifteen minutes before visiting time, and a doctor came in and asked if there were family members for Rodney Thibault." Marianne's voice was soft and slow. "Lilly and I followed him into a small glassed-in room, and he introduced himself as Doctor Warner, the neurosurgeon who'd operated on Rodney and removed the bullet from his brain. I told him that I was Rod's cousin and introduced him to Lilly.
"You would have been so proud of her." Mari's voice raised an octave. "She stepped forward and reached out to shake the doctor's hand, like a grown up."
"'Well, Lilly, you are a miracle worker.' Dr. Warner shook Lilly's hand and held it while he talked to her. 'Your dad must love you very much. We've done everything we could to get him to wake up, but he's been unresponsive until now. I'd like to observe you with him, if that's okay?'
"'Okay,' she said and looked directly into Dr. Warner's eyes. 'When can I see him?'
"'How about now?' He led the way to Rodney's room. The doctor and I stood at the foot of the bed and watched Lilly go to Rodney's bedside and reach under the sheet for his hand. She began to talk to him, and he turned his head towards her, ever so slightly, and fluttered his eyelashes, a small smile turned up the corners of his mouth and the edges of his eyes. Lilly pulled Rod's hand out from under the sheet, and Dr. Warner and I watched Rodney wrap his fingers around her hand and squeeze.
"'I love you, Dad. I mean, Rodney. Sometimes I don't know what to call you, but Dad feels best to me, if that's okay with you?' Lilly had her mouth close to his ear, and his grin spread across the bottom of his face, the corners of his eyes raised a bit more, and his cheekbones lifted. I looked at Dr. Warner and, Sissy, his expression was one of amazement."
I stood in Susie's room, pressing the telephone to my ear so hard it began to burn. Susie looked at me with those big blue-gray eyes, worry lines across her forehead, so I put the receiver near her ear and bent down so both of us could hear Marianne.
"Rodney opened his eyes about halfway and looked directly at Lilly." Marianne's voice was filled with excitement. "His lips moved as though he wanted to say something, so Lilly put her ear right next to his mouth, then she nodded. I couldn't hear what he said, but he must have said something because she said, 'Okay, then it's Dad.'
"Lilly couldn't hold it together any longer and burst out crying. When she put her head on the side of his bed, he reached his other hand over his chest and stroked her hair as he had the day before, only this time his hand actually moved back and forth a little." Marianne took a deep breath, and I could tell she was choking back tears, too. "The doctor went to the other side of Rodney's bed and listened to his heart, felt his pulse, shined a light on his pupils, and tapped on Rodney's elbows and knees, then he motioned for me to follow him out of the room.
"'He has a long way to go.' Warner is tall and very handsome, although I shouldn't notice things like that." Marianne laughed, and Susie grinned and winked at me.
"'We don't know how extensive the damage is,' Dr. Warner told me. He showed a great deal of compassion towards Rodney. 'My greatest concern has to do with his cognizance, but if he knows his daughter, that's the best sign that he does not have memory loss.'
"I told him that I'm a nurse and that Susie had also been injured and was in ICU in Jean Ville. I said that if she and Lilly were both here with Rodney, he would make significant progress." Marianne took a deep breath, and Susie smiled. "He agreed with me and asked that I not take Lilly back to Jean Ville just yet. He said it might be disturbing for Rodney if Lilly disappeared, that patients with brain injuries think all sorts of things that can cause stress on their brains and obscure recovery.
"I told him I had to get back to Jean Ville, but maybe I could arrange something so Lilly could stay. I asked him if Susie could be transferred to Ochsner, and he said that if she has a brain injury, he would take her as a patient, but only if Dr. Switzer would make the referral." Marianne took another deep breath, and I could hear exhaustion in her exhale.
"I'll call Rodney's folks and ask them to drive to New Orleans to be with Lilly so you can come home." I took the receiver from Susie's ear, and she closed her eyes, a huge grin across her face.
*
"She's making progress here; why should we put her in a vehicle and transport her almost four hours?" Dr. Switzer pinched the bridge of his nose with the fingers of his left hand and removed his glasses with his right. He looked tired and stressed. Marianne and I had confronted him in the doctors' lounge.
"It's more for Rodney than Susie." Marianne got a cup of coffee from the coffee maker on the counter and sat across from him at the square table. I stood behind her chair.
"What's your opinion of Rodney's condition?" He slumped in his chair and put his glasses back on.
"Dr. Warner thought that the way Rod responded to Lilly was nothing short of miraculous." Marianne paused and took a sip of her coffee. "We believe having Susie there would help to speed Rodney's progress even more, and I think it would be good for Susie. She's worried sick about Rodney and doesn't think we're telling her the truth. She needs to see him for herself."
"You make a good case." Dr. David winked at me over Marianne's head. "I'll call Warner and make the referral." He pushed his chair back from the table.
"Before you go Dr. David, I have a question." I leaned forward on the back of Marianne's chair and spoke softly.
"What is it?" His brow wrinkled, and he placed his hands on the table as though he were about to lift himself up.
"Have they found out who did it?"
"Did what?" He looked confused.
"Shot Rodney. Who shot him?" I felt agitated. I wanted to shout at him that someone should be pressing forward to try to catch the person or people who shot an innocent man.
"I'm sorry, Sissy." Switzer leaned back in his chair. "I've been so intent on caring for the injured that I haven't thought about how it happened."
"I didn't see who it was, but I saw a blue pickup truck speed away from the church after the shots were fired." I stared at him, and Marianne glanced over her shoulder at me. "Isn't that what you saw, Mari?"
"Exactly." She turned back towards Dr. David.
"Hmm. I'll talk to the DA" Switzer had a puzzled expression. "He's one of my patients, and a friend."
"Would you call me if you learn anything?" I wrote my phone number on the back of one of Marianne's business cards and handed it to him.
*
"Hi, sunshine. How are you today?" I stood on the foot of Susie's bed. Mari had followed me through the door and stood on the side of the bed.
"Worrrrrr -eeeed," Susie said the word slowly, trying to pronounce each syllable correctly so we could understand.
"Wow! Speech therapy must be working." Mari sat on the side of Susie's bed. "What are you worried about?"
"Lilly?" Susie spoke slowly, but pronounced her daughter's name clearly. "Rod…?"
"Well, Lilly is with Rodney because she's his best medicine right now." Marianne told her about Rodney's improvement, and tears rolled down Susie's face; especially when Mari said Rodney said something to Lilly, and she said, "Then it's Dad."
"The good news is, I'm going to take you to New Orleans to see your husband for yourself." Marianne was smiling, and it took Susie a minute to digest what she said.
"Huh? Whhhhh-nnn?" She spoke too quickly and her words were jumbled, but Marianne and I both understood Susie. That's the good thing about sisters.
"Yes, really." Marianne squeezed Susie's hand and smiled a confident smile. "Rodney's doctor, Warner, has agreed to take you as a patient, and Dr. Switzer is making the referral. As soon as that's done, we'll schedule an ambulance to transport you."
"Oh! Hahhhhh-peeee." Susie's smile was broad and it was the first time I'd seen her dimples since the shooting.
"The two of you will be good medicine for each other. And you'll like Dr. Warner." Marianne grinned, and I stared at her intently, trying to read whether there was something beneath those words. Susie must have sensed it too.
"You? Like Warrrrr-ner?" Susie laughed.
"Don't jump to conclusions." Marianne laughed too, but I could tell Susie had struck a chord. "He's a good neurosurgeon and seems genuinely interested in Rodney."
"Heeee? Likes. You?" Susie started to laugh, which made Marianne laugh. None of us had been very happy since we'd walked out of the church on Susie's wedding day almost two weeks before, so it was quite a relief to laugh like sisters and feel a bit lighthearted.
Then I thought: If Susie, Marianne, Rodney, and Lilly are all going to be in New Orleans, it falls to me to find out who did this, and bring them to justice. Me, twenty-five-year-old Sissy Burton.