Chapter Seven

“MARK MY WORDS, we’re going to find out he did something in the city that got him exiled out in our direction.” Momma dealt out paper plates to Dad, Kenny, Ricky, Allan, and me. As she served up leftover meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and peas she also offered a hearty helping of her opinion of Dr. Jacks, the doctor assigned to run Bend’s first ever medical clinic. “They got rid of him and now they can say Bend has a doctor and the school can say us nursing students have a qualified professional to guide us during our clinicals. It’s like people in small towns don’t warrant a good doctor.”

Momma completed her nursing classes just in time to begin her clinical training at the Bend Community Clinic. I suspected the main reason Momma disliked Dr. Jacks was altitude. Dr. Jacks was top dog; doctor trumped nurse. Nobody had ever trumped Momma. She burned with anger. Momma never signed onto anything unless she ran it: her marriage to Dad, parenting, and working as a waitress at Big Will’s Diner all those years. She hadn’t had a boss since childhood and she fired her parents as soon as she could leave home.

“Bend only got a clinic because of a federal grant. Doctor Jacks came with the package. Him and his fancy woolen suits, fancy cars and trucks. He’s a show-off.” Momma waved her hand at me. “Did you know he even drinks out at the tavern most nights and weekends? And he smokes. Not enough breath mints and gum in the world to cover up that stink.” Momma eyed Dad for a moment. Dad lowered his head.

Even once Momma sat down, she didn’t eat right away. She chewed on her thumbnail, fuming and scheming. “It’s not that he’s flatulent or don’t wash his hands, it’s just he’s small-minded. He won’t let me put a bowl of condoms on the counter. He said it would offend people. His ideas about medicine and public health are stuck in the ’50s and so are his ideas about people.”

To me a mind set in the ’50s seemed like a perfect match for Momma. She was more Father Knows Best than HBO or Showtime, but Becky’s early death and school had changed Momma some. She acted like she noticed a bit more gray than black and white. I had to admit that college made her seem like she knew more of the wider world. Maybe she did. She had at least met white people from other counties and a handful of people of color by going to school. And, as she reminded me, she saw movies and read books about the world.

“What’s with the paper plates?” I asked.

If looks could kill, Momma slayed me right at the dinner table.

Dad jumped in as usual. “That’s my reasoning. What with everybody working or going to school or both…it made sense to reduce some of the housework around here.”

Just that quick Momma stood up and fled out the door, calling over her shoulder that she had some errands to run. I wondered if hell had frozen over. Momma permitted the use of paper plates for dinner and she served leftovers for the second time in a week.

 

AFTER DINNER, I pondered Momma’s education and new shortcuts as I drove through town on my way to check if Charity happened to be home. Kenny had left for a movie with Ramona. Ricky had the dogs in rollers, and Dad had Allan with him on their way to the barn. Dad told me to go “air out.” He’d probably tired of me moping around, calling Charity over and over and gazing out of the window like she might magically appear.

When I drove by the Bend Community Clinic, I did a double-take. Twitch’s Jeep edged up alongside Momma’s battered station wagon in the clinic parking lot. Odd. My heart stopped. The last time they collaborated on anything was when Becky was sick. I hoped their current confab had nothing to do with sickness, injury or death. Momma and Twitch never just got together to talk. They tolerated each other because Twitch was my dad’s best friend and my biological father and mentor, but it seemed Momma wanted very little to do with him. Twitch never said anything blatantly negative to me about Momma. He acknowledged her strength and power, but he had not been conscripted as a soldier in her army.

I suppose for Momma, seeing Twitch reminded her she had had a one-night-stand with him and got pregnant with Becky and me just before she met my dad and fell in love and married him. Maybe she counted it as a mistake on her part—the mark soiling an otherwise perfect record. Maybe she thought about it every time she saw me and that’s why she couldn’t accept me for being lesbian, one more spot on her record. Maybe she thought about Becky being dead every time she glimpsed me and it made her sad and angry.

I had neither the heart nor constitution to ponder all those things but thinking about Momma and Twitch being alone together piqued my curiosity enough that I pulled my truck into the clinic parking lot. I parked next to a little red sports car. Then I watched Dr. Jacks remove his suit coat, lay it over the backseat of the sports car, and fold himself up to fit behind the wheel. I waved at him and he waved back, although I doubt he knew who I was. I stepped on fresh gum which stuck to my work boot and promptly picked up three cigarette filters that had been littered by where I parked.

The clinic door had been left unlocked. I entered but flipped the deadlock behind me. It was after six, closing time. Perhaps the pedestrian duties of locking the clinic didn’t fall to Dr. Jacks. I passed through the empty reception area. The smell of disinfectant and watermelon room deodorizer hung in the air. The lobby furniture hadn’t yet succumbed to wear and filth. The magazines on the tables were fanned out neatly and probably at least current. A better daughter would have called out to alert anyone in the clinic that I’d entered. I didn’t call out. I listened. I heard Momma and Twitch arguing so obviously I had to eavesdrop until I could interrupt.

“Just what’re you suggesting?” Twitch asked Momma. “She’s pregnant?”

“Shush, keep your voice down. That girl’s only sixteen years old, but she’s built like a thirteen-year-old. She’s too young to have a baby.”

“Don’t you think I know that? Christ.”

“No need to swear, Ben.” Momma always called Twitch by his given name rather than his nickname.

“Keep your religious gobbledygook to yourself, Peggy. I’ll swear if I goddamn want to.”

“Let’s focus. What’re we going to do?”

“What do you mean? You said she had a miscarriage. What can we do?”

“That’s why I called you to meet me here. Maybe she had it or just started it and Dr. Jacks sent her home to finish on her own. And if she did have a miscarriage and if some nasty man got her pregnant once, he’ll get her pregnant again.”

“Peggy, what do you mean ‘some nasty man’? Like we don’t know who did it. It had to have been McGerber. Lorraine told me he’s fostering her. Creep!”

Addie. Shit. I leaned back against the wall in the shadows thinking about that young, thin girl being forced into sex with McGerber.

“Did she say the holy man had sex with her, Peggy?”

“She wouldn’t tell me. Not that it would do any good if she named him.”

“Why? McGerber can go to jail and hell just like the rest of us.”

“You fool, McGerber is a pillar of the church. She’s probably not going to name him, and we can’t just go accusing him of anything. Although, she does live alone with him and his wife is dead. God knows you men will have sex with anything if you feel the need.”

“Yes, Peggy, I think we’ve already established that some of us men make damn poor decisions about who we have sex with. Not me, but some men do.”

“He’s a widower and old,” Momma said. “Why can’t he just forget about sex?”

“Not only that, McGerber has a lot of sheep,” Twitch said.

“Just stop it. Let me think,” Momma said. “She’s not in school. She’s not from here. How could she have a boyfriend? She could have met someone at church. There’s farm workers to consider I suppose. I hate to think McGerber did something so awful.”

“What about the sheriff?” Twitch said.

“You actually think the sheriff violated the girl?” Momma said.

“No. I mean we can tell him what we know, and he can investigate and arrest the rapist.”

“You know Sheriff Scrogrum couldn’t solve a crime unless he tripped on the evidence and somebody else explained what he’d found. And our new doctor, Doctor Jacks, won’t help. He seemed mad at the girl for coming here. He just told me to clean up the blood and he didn’t even tell the young thing what happened to her. He had the nerve to hush me when I tried to ask Addie about somebody touching her. He said, ‘It’s merely God cleaning house.’ Then he forbade me, forbade me I tell you, from calling her placement social worker with what he called ‘unfounded gossip.’ The sheriff won’t believe us any better. I don’t trust them. They’ll just put that young girl through hell while McGerber tells his side.”

“Watch your language, Peggy.”

When it seemed they’d hit an impasse of sorts, I gave up my position eavesdropping from the adjoining exam room and stepped out to where Momma and Twitch had been talking.

“Lorraine?” Momma said. She took up her I am mighty pissed pose. “What’re you doing here? Is it Joseph? Are Allan and Ricky okay?”

“They’re fine. I just saw both your vehicles and pulled in to talk with you.” I hoped she wouldn’t ask me what I wanted to talk about. I couldn’t think of a thing. “Doctor Jacks must have left the door unlocked. There wasn’t anybody at reception. I wasn’t intending to eavesdrop…exactly.”

“What’d you hear?” Twitch asked.

“Enough,” I said. “Addie’s body rejected the devil’s spawn. McGerber is a rapist and an asshole!”

“Watch your swearing,” Momma and Twitch said in unison.

“If she found the note I put in her dress pocket,” Momma said, “Addie’s going to be here in a little while. I told her to slip out of the potluck dinner at church study and come see me at the clinic. Poor thing.”

“Did Addie come here on her own when she had the miscarriage?” I asked.

“No. That nasty man brought her here,” Momma said. “He said she was having trouble with her womanly time and seemed to be bleeding pretty heavy. The fool. She was having a miscarriage. She ain’t but a child herself.”

Momma bit her nails like she did when she put on the big think.

“McGerber. That pious asshole. He must think he can get away with anything. What if she gets pregnant again?” I didn’t think my hate for McGerber could grow any bigger, but it did.

“We’ve got to help her,” Momma said. “She’s only sixteen years old.”

It surprised me to hear she’d made sixteen.

Twitch shook his head and paced. “Kids aren’t made for having kids.”

“So, you agree about what we have to do?” Momma asked Twitch.

Twitch eyed Momma and looked away. He said nothing, he just paced.

“What do we have to do?” I asked.

“You shouldn’t even be part of this discussion,” Twitch said. “You sure as hell ain’t going to be a part of a birth control discussion or an abortion.”

“Abortion? What’re you talking about? That’s not fair.” My heart sank.

“If I had my way, there’d be no abortion,” Twitch said. “I’d neuter McGerber!”

“We’ll talk to her tonight,” Momma said. “Did you bring the bananas and condoms?”

“I thought you were joking about the bananas,” Twitch said. “I think I can come up with a condom.”

I laughed. Both Momma and I knew Twitch probably didn’t leave the house without condoms—at least not since an unexpected lesson when he got Momma pregnant with my sister Becky and me.

“It isn’t that I want the girl putting a raincoat on that nasty man, but he’s primed her for more trauma and early sexual experimentation. She should know about condoms. I have the better bet right here.” Momma held up a plastic package with small punch-out pills I could only assume were birth control pills. I’d never actually seen them in person.

Twitch was green and sweat beaded along his brow. He stopped pacing and leaned against an exam table with his head in his hands. “I’m not made for this. I’m a vet for God’s sake.”

A pounding noise like a break-in echoed from the lobby of the clinic. All three of us rushed to the lobby to investigate. Twitch held a broom like a club. Momma had a metal emesis basin, and for some reason I had grabbed a stethoscope. To be of any use I would need to get close enough to strangle an intruder. We crept forward, single file, Momma in the lead at first and then Twitch hustled in front of Momma. “Jesus Christ, would you let me be the man in something?” He stepped into the waiting room. The motion detector triggered the automatic lights and florescent glare shone across the room to the glass clinic door.

No weapons were needed. It was Addie.

Momma unlocked the door and let Addie in. Addie screamed and cried as blood streaked her legs. Her once white anklets were crimson above her buckle shoes.

“Mrs. Tyler, I’m bleeding,” Addie said. “I don’t know what’s happening. I had pads, but they can’t keep up. I think my organs are falling out.”

Although they had never operated together, Momma and Twitch worked like a well-rehearsed team. I’m glad Dad isn’t seeing this. Twitch and Momma’s interplay was both unsettling and awesome. They led Addie back to an exam room. Addie recognized me from our meeting at McGerber’s farm and saving those kittens. She grabbed my hand and pulled me along with her.

“Vet, I’m scared. It’s one thing not to obey him about the kittens, but this?”

“It’s going to be okay,” I said. “Call me Lorraine. I’ll stay right here with you.”

Momma and Twitch helped Addie up onto a paper-covered exam table. I held Addie’s hand while Momma and Twitch whispered together in the hallway. Twitch came back in the room and winked at Addie.

“Addie, Mrs. Tyler and I are going to get that bleeding to stop.”

Addie cried and her legs moved with agitation.

I petted her hand and cooed that she was going to be all right. I didn’t know how convincing I sounded. I didn’t know if I believed myself. Staying calm is a lot easier when the patient has fur or hooves. This people emergency stuff was stressful.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Addie. You’re going to be fine. You are in good hands.” I knew at least the last part was true.

Momma slipped Addie’s shoes off. “Addie, I need you to slip your panties off. Can you lift your hips for me? That’s right, dear. I’ll get you something else to wear before you go out and I’ll get these clothes washed up for you.”

Addie lay nude from the waist down, partially covered in a blanket, and her feet were in those damn exam table stirrups which were only a little less creepy when Momma covered them with pink socks. Momma and Twitch had put on gowns, gloves, and masks, and Momma opened a prepackaged tray of sterile instruments and another bundle of packing.

The volume of blood and pulpy masses left little doubt that she’d miscarried. I’d seen it a couple of times before, but only in animals. Once, when a pregnant sheep aborted after being chased by dogs and once when a cow expelled her calf early because of a bacterial disease. The miscarriage that began with cramping and bleeding earlier in the day finished off now. No abortion necessary. Addie’s body had expelled the baby before it had time to grow to something bigger, doing the job without help from anybody.

“Honey, you’re going to be just fine,” Momma told Addie. “You had a miscarriage. Did you know you were pregnant, Addie?”

“No,” Addie said. “I can’t be. You can’t get pregnant the first time.”

Momma, Twitch, and I exchanged looks. Addie had plenty of company with people who held that mistaken notion.

“The first time and every time counts,” Momma said. Of course, she knew this from her own experience too. She glanced at Twitch and back to Addie. “Some people even get pregnant although they’re using birth control.”

“Oh,” Addie said. She appeared sheepish like she’d been caught in an awfully foolish mistake.

“The baby is gone, honey. Your body said it wasn’t ready to have a baby yet.” Tears stained Momma’s mask.

“Did I do something wrong that the baby died?” Addie asked. “Will I be able to have babies later?”

“No and yes. No, you didn’t do anything wrong and yes, you can have babies later after college and graduate school. For now, your body’s just not ready.” Momma still wore bloody gloves, but I watched Momma’s face. Her eyes caressed Addie every bit as much as Momma would’ve if her hands were clean.

Twitch had a syringe and a specimen jar and put some expelled tissue in the jar. Addie watched him.

“Do you want me to take that and keep it or is it for…him?”

“No, Addie. I want to keep this. This is proof of who did this to you. It will help us stop him from doing this again.” Twitch capped the jar and took off his mask and gloves.

“I don’t want to get anybody in trouble,” Addie said. “He’s not at the farm.”

“Lorraine, there’re some scrubs in the cabinet in the next room. Get Addie a pair that might fit her—the prettiest pair you can find.” Then Momma took off her gloves and mask and stroked Addie’s face with her big hand. “Who did this, honey?”

Momma shooed me out, but of course I listened from the hall. I could hear everything, but only see Twitch from where I stood.

“Who had sex with you?” Momma asked.

“I’m not saying.” Addie ran her fingers over her mouth like she zipped her lips.

I returned and when I bent closer to cover her shoulders with a blanket, she whispered, “The old fart will be so mad at me.”

Both Momma and Twitch must have heard her and reached the same conclusion I did.

Twitch’s jaw tightened.

Momma stepped in front of him. “Honey, you don’t have to worry about Mister McGerber. I’m going to take you home to my house and feed you until you have some meat on your bones.”

“Can I really come to your house?” Addie asked.

The house is filling up.

Momma nodded.

I held some pale pink scrubs with pictures of rabbits playing various musical instruments on the top and plain pink drawstring bottoms.

Twitch had taken Addie’s hand. “I’ll deal with McGerber.” Then Twitch turned to Momma. “Peggy, initial and date this jar, would you?” He handed her the jar with some tissue in it from the miscarriage.

Momma initialed and dated the label on the bottle.

“I don’t think you can prove anything with that and if you can, it would be a costly test in some big city laboratory,” I said.

“McGerber won’t know that.” Twitch winked at me. “I’m going to put this in a safe place for insurance and then I’m going to church.”

“Can I come?” I asked. Wow, mark this day on the calendar. I asked to go to church. Going to church had never exactly excited me unless Charity was going to be there. Twitch wasn’t an avid worshipper either, but he’d go to the church to find and confront McGerber. As Twitch surely knew, I’d have liked nothing better than to see McGerber squirm for a change. Maybe Twitch was trying to make up for sending me to the old man’s farm weeks prior. He scrutinized Momma briefly. She didn’t say anything. Then Twitch waved for me to follow him.

“Momma, can you get Addie to our house by yourself?”

“Of course, I can. I’m putting her in your room, so she doesn’t have to do any stairs,” Momma said. “You sleep upstairs with Allan, Kenny, and Ricky for now. No messing around up there!”

Like me messing with them or any man was a remote possibility.