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Mack loaded the packages from the Ace Hardware into the rear of the Bronco. Hearing a voice, he paused, gripping the plastic bag that held a deadbolt and window-lock replacement.
You sure you ain’t moving too fast on this thing, pard . . .
Mack hesitated, wondering where the voice had come from. It took a minute to realize it was from inside his head. Recalling the warmth he sensed coming from Nonny Folsom the night before, he turned argumentative.
“I wasn’t imagining it—it was real.”
You sure the warmth wasn’t coming from you . . .
Mack wanted to argue some more, but too many failed relationships came to mind.
“Aw hell,” he muttered. He made his way back inside the Ace, returned the parts, and pocketed the refund.
He was surprised to find Nonny’s rusty Jeep at the nursing home. He waved at the old man standing watch at the front door and waited for the intern to release the lock. He nodded at the men and women that lined the hallway, all looking at him like they were at a parade and he was the lead float, but he did not see Nonny.
He pulled up short when he walked through the door to his grandfather’s room. Nonny was seated in a chair next to Henry Carter’s bed. She looked just as surprised to see him, which Mack reasoned explained her fumbling the concealment of a bag of candy. At that moment, he knew who Henry’s gumdrop conspirator was.
“It’s okay,” Henry told her. “He won’t tell on us. This here’s Mack Barlow, Mr. Anderson’s grandson.”
“We’ve met,” she said.
Mack repeated her words silently, absorbing their coolness and thinking be had done right returning those hardware parts. He took the empty chair next to his grandfather’s bed, glad to see him sitting up and looking alert.
“How you feeling, Pa?” The old man was working on finishing a bowl of pudding. “You need help with that?”
“Don’t have both feet in the grave,” Grover Anderson snapped. “I’m capable of feeding myself.”
Mack grinned. “Yes sir, I can see that.”
“You ain’t found ‘em yet?”
“Don’t know where to look. You remember where you buried them?”
Grover Anderson rubbed thin fingers across the pale skin on his forehead. “I lost that memory . . .”
Mack pulled the photo from his pocket and placed it into his grandfather’s hands.
“That’s Bill and Jack.” He handed the photograph back to Mack.
“Yes sir. You remember where you buried them?” he asked again.
Grover rubbed his forehead some more. “We lost track of them graves. Pained me terrible to leave them lay in foreign soil like that.”
“Foreign soil?” Nonny said from across the room.
Noticing Nonny’s eyes moving as if she were watching an action scene in a picture show, Mack said, “What’s your thinking?”
“Just seems a strange choice of words.”
“Well, I figure he meant on someone else’s property.” He paused. “You don’t agree?”
She shrugged. “I’m not disagreeing with you, just trying to do deconstruction.”
Deconstruction. Mack tried translating the word in light of what he knew in the building trade. “I’m in construction,” he said. “Not salvage.”
Nonny ducked her chin. “It’s a method I used to teach for analyzing language, looking for hidden meaning behind the words . . .” She waved a hand dismissively. “Forget it. You’re probably right, which means you still have to find where he lived back then.”
You, Mack repeated silently. The previous day, she had used We.
Entering the room to remove the lunch trays, the nurse’s aide looked at the two elderly men. “Either of you gentlemen need to use the toilet?”
“Mr. Anderson over there might be due,” Henry Carter said. “I went before lunch.”
“You folks want to step outside a few minutes?” the aide said, looking at Mack and Nonny.
Mack walked to the door, Nonny close behind. They leaned against the wall on opposite sides of the hallway, arms crossed, and avoided looking at each other. “You, uh, you have any luck at that genealogy place?” he asked to fill the silence.
“Haven’t been yet. Just finished my mail run before I came by here.”
“I see,” he said, looking interested. “Say, when you went by our place, did you see any cars there?”
Nonny turned introspective. “Think one of the Andersons was there, don’t know which one. They all drive big Buicks. Why?”
“It’s probably nothing, but Mama was still in bed when I left. She had someone coming in for a haircut, so sounds like everything’s all right.”
Nonny raised her eyebrows. “Still in bed? That doesn’t sound like Ruby.”
Mack scratched at the stubble on his cheek, wishing he’d taken time to shave. “Maybe I’ll just go with you to that genealogy place.” The moment he spoke, he realized he’d penned Nonny into a corner and tried to backtrack. “Thought it might save some time, but if you think I’d be a drag . . .”
She hunched her shoulders. “Guess two could cover more ground, and I do have other things to do.”
“Yeah, that was my thinking.”
“Okay then. I need to take care of some business at the Pigg first. How ‘bout I meet you there at two o’clock?”
“That’ll work.”
The nurse’s assistant opened the door and indicated Mack and Nonny could return. Nonny said a quick goodbye to Henry and Grover and left.
Watching her leave, Mack’s curiosity got the better of him. “What kind of business Nonny have at the Pigg, Henry?”
“What? Oh, she picks up the leftover produce, takes it down to the shelter. She does a lot of things like that.”
Mack let out a grunt and noticed the question in Henry’s eyes. “I grew up with Nonny. Never figured her for a do-gooder.”
“Oh,” the man said again. “Well, sometimes people change. Maybe that fella down there had something to do with it.”
Picking at his front teeth with a fingernail, Mack said, “That fella?”
“The do-gooder that runs the shelter. He and Nonny taught school over at Norman.”
Uh-huh, Mack thought, figuring he had stumbled onto the explanation for Nonny’s cool behavior. Nonny was in a relationship. At first, he found the thought disturbing, but then he warmed to it for it meant he could focus on the reason he had come back home without further distractions. And fewer distractions meant he could get back to the big and wide without further adieu. He had plenty to focus on in the next few days without any detours. Checking his watch, he rose to leave.
“Take care, Henry. Don’t overdo it on those gumdrops.” He turned to his grandfather. “Glad you’re feeling better, Pa. I need to catch up with Nonny now. We’re gonna look for Bill and Jack.”
“Bill and Jack’s in Beulah Land.”
Mack laughed under his breath. As he turned toward the doorway, the word genes popped into his head and he began to think there might be something to it if his aunt and grandfather were any indications. Suddenly he felt a pull on his sleeve.
“What is it, Pa?” He bent close.
“I didn’t mean to hurt her like that.”
Mack exhaled slowly. “I figured that out, Pa. You must’ve had one of those nightmares.”
“Yeah, I tried to talk to her about things, but she wouldn’t have none of it. Sensitive type, Grace.”
“Grace?” Mack felt his lips numb.
“I forgave her a long time ago for what she did. Bringing her back proved that, don’t you think?”
“Bringing her back . . .” Mack tried to sort through the implications of his grandfather’s words. The only reason to bring someone back was if they were dead. He forced himself back to his grandfather’s question. “I’m sure it did, Pa.”
“I’ve been thinking that maybe she’d listen to me now. Go get her, tell her I want to explain why I did the things I did.”
Mack breathed deep. “Who, Pa? Go get who?”
“Grace.”
Pausing, Mack said, “I can’t, Pa. Grace isn’t here.” He watched his grandfather’s face flush red.
“I know she’s not here! Now, you go out to the house and get her! I need to set things right!”
“Easy Pa.” Mack saw a nurse’s aide appear in the doorway. He turned to face his grandfather again and spoke slowly. “I’m looking for Bill and Jack, remember?”
The old man’s voice broke. “You find them yet?”
“Not yet, Pa, but I will. I swear it to you, I’ll find them.” He heard a shuffling noise and turned to see a nurse in a stiff white uniform walk in with a medicine tray.
“Move back and I’ll give him a shot,” she said.
“What kind of shot?”
“He pitches these temper fits now and then. A shot helps him relax, sleep it off.”
“Temper fits?” Mack took a stand between the nurse and his grandfather. “No ma’am. He’s not to have another one of those shots. Not today—not ever.”
The nurse blanched as white as her uniform. “I can’t do that. I can’t do anything on your say so. You’ll need to clear it with the doctor if you don’t want him to have any more shots.”
He waved a hand at the doorway. “Lead off. I’ll cover your flank.”
The surprised nurse backed out of the room and headed in the direction of the front desk. True to his word, Mack was right behind her. He made his way down the parade ground in the hallway, his mouth level and his back stiff, set on telling a doctor that had never set foot on foreign soil except for frivolous reasons that some men not as fortunate had earned the right to bear anger.
