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Chapter 21-1

21

Richard drove his car to Tallahassee (he’d cleaned it out for the occasion) and Mike rode shotgun. The idea was that I’d have the entire backseat to stretch out. I fought to stay vertical on principle, but riding as a passenger puts me to sleep under the best of conditions. I dozed against the window for a while, but soon gave up any pretense of consciousness and lay down to doze horizontally. It’s never that much more comfortable to lie down squashed than it is to sit up, but at least your head doesn’t bob and you’re not fighting gravity.

Mike navigated to my house without ever once asking directions, and when I came around it was only because we were pulling in my drive. I’d left my car in the carport, but Cecil, a light blue Volkswagen Cabrio, didn’t take up much room. Richard pulled up as close as possible behind Cecil so I wouldn’t have to walk as far. There’s a door to the kitchen from the carport, and I was hoping to slip in unseen that way rather than through my front door. Some of my elderly neighbors are nosy and have poor eyesight, a bad combination for my reputation. The last thing I needed was for Mrs. Kimball to watch two men carrying me home drunk in the middle of the day for an orgy. That’s what her prurient mind would see, and she’d pass it along to the rest of the spinsters and widowers at the curb. They all met there every morning with their cups of coffee to get their newspapers.

The house was a little stuffy when we walked in, but Jackie and Bruce weren’t floating at the top of their aquarium, so things seemed in good order. I hope I thanked Mike and Richard, but all I know for sure is that I went straight to bed and was asleep again within minutes.

Ben was in my room when I woke. He’d brought a chair from the kitchen and was sitting next to my bed. I rolled over painfully to find him staring at me. “Wow, you really do look like s**t!”

From the mouths of children. “Kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“No, but the girls at school never complain.”

“Yeah, well, the girls at school are a bunch of sluts.”

“Don’t I know it.”

We smiled at each other.

“Good to have you back,” he said.

I was lying against several pillows in a semi-raised position. I didn’t know who’d had such foresight and engineering know-how, but I was glad for it. It made sitting up easier. “Thanks for feeding the boys. Hand me my hat?”

He did, and I shoved my hair under it a bit too hard. “Lip stuff?” He handed me that as well, and I smacked my lips with just a bit of color. “Better?” I asked.

“Well, yeah, if the Red Sox weren’t such a loser team.”

“Come help me up, you twit.”

It was as difficult as I’d expected, with much rushing of blood and screaming of nerves, and I was glad for the assistance. We walked together to the living room, Ben angled slightly ahead of me in the narrow hallway. He settled me in a chair, then went to the kitchen to get us something to drink. That was when I noticed Mike. “You’re still here,” I said.

“That’s Syd, master of the obvious,” Ben said. I tried to give him a scathing look, but only managed a worse headache.

Mike was pulling dishes down from my cabinets, but he stopped long enough to give Ben’s shoulder a guy squeeze. “Remember, she’s not quite firing on all cylinders yet.” Mike ran his finger in circles next to his head. “We gotta cut her some slack.”

“What are you doing?” I asked. “And where’s Richard?”

“I’m getting some of your dishes down so you don’t crack your head open again trying to reach them. Richard went grocery shopping with Noel. They should be back any minute.”

“Noel?”

Ben answered. “Yeah, Noel. Are you supposed to be taking some kind of pills or something?”

I didn’t have any idea, but of course Mike did. He and Ben consulted about my medical condition—Mike was putting a list on the refrigerator—while I tried to make sense of my life. Too many people I barely knew, who didn’t know each other at all, suddenly seemed to know each other very well. Perhaps I missed seeing Rod Serling when I woke up, or more likely there was a simple explanation. Of course Ben would have come over as soon as he saw the activity. I must have told Noel I was coming home this afternoon, and she’d have come over to interrogate me after my mysterious phone call. Then Mike and Richard stuck around to get me settled in, and everyone got chummy while I was sleeping. I felt a vague uneasiness about the situation, but I wasn’t sure why.

Soon after I’d made these brilliant deductions, I heard a car pull in the driveway. Richard and Noel staggered through the door, arms loaded with grocery bags. Noel spoke first, glancing in my direction as she scooted her bags onto the kitchen counter. “Well, if it isn’t Sleeping—oh my God!”

The top of one bag tilted, and bags of pasta spilled on the floor. By the time she’d picked them up, Noel had returned to her usual composure. She left her bags and walked toward me.

“And I thought I was looking better.”

“I’m sorry. Richard tried to warn me, but after speaking to you last night I thought he was being melodramatic.” She lifted my cap gently to get a better look at my forehead. “Obviously I was wrong.”

She put her hands on her hips while she looked me over, then turned back toward the men in the kitchen. “If you guys can handle that, I think it’s time Sydney got a bath.” Noel helped me up and we headed toward the master bath. “And order some pizzas while you’re at it.”

I sat on the toilet while Noel started the bath. For once, I was glad of the tacky fuzzy toilet lid cover. I couldn’t remember where I’d gotten it. Surely I wouldn’t have paid money for it, but the alternative (that I was putting my bum on a tacky fuzzy thing that came with my house, a tacky fuzzy thing that had previously hosted the bums of strangers) was even worse. My mind grew so fixated on the thought, I didn’t notice Noel’s brief departure until she returned with a carton of Epsom salts.

“I figured you probably wouldn’t have these,” she said, dumping salt generously into the churning hot water. “It’s a generational thing. My grandmother swears by them.” When the tub was full enough, she turned off the water and began seeing to me, starting at the bottom. She removed the bandages gently, leaving a small pile on the floor. “It’s all right to get your feet wet, but I wouldn’t let them soak the whole time.”

Next was the splint on my right arm, which Marie had strapped on over my shirt sleeve that morning. It had Velcro straps on the forearm and then slid off over my hand. Fortunately my fingers weren’t as swollen, but they and the rest of my arm had grown much more colorful and were still no fun to look at.

Noel placed the splint on the floor next to the pile of bandages and went to work on my forehead. “Any more?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. Maybe some small ones.”

Noel pulled a couple of towels from the rack and set them next to her. Then she began trying to pull my sweats off without pulling me off my toilet perch. My underwear came off with them, but got hung up at my knees. It hurt trying to stay upright, but the absurdity of it all made me giggle, and Noel grinned. There were some small bandages on my calves, and my legs were covered with nasty bruises. I thought she’d say something, but after her initial outburst, Noel had given no sign of surprise.

She draped the bath towel on my lap while she undid my buttons, then pulled the towel up over my chest as she removed my shirt. Whether for the sake of her modesty or my own I didn’t know, but I appreciated it. I was never one of those women at the gym who felt comfortable flashing my breasts and furriness at everyone in the locker room until I’d sufficiently aired out and felt like dressing. Maybe if I’d gone to the gym more than half a dozen times in my life, I’d feel differently, but I doubted it.

One of the men called out from the kitchen, and Noel went to check on the crisis, telling me not to move until she got back. I was starting to chill and took the opportunity to wrap the other towel around me. When she returned, she got me sitting on the edge of the bath and asked me if I needed any more help. I assured her I could handle it. She nodded and flipped the switch on the bathroom fan.

“I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes to help you out. Don’t worry about your hair. We’ll wash it under the tap after you bathe. If you need anything, just let me know.” A wicked grin touched her mouth. “We Southern Baptists aren’t much on nudity, but if you fall in I think I can help you out without endangering my immortal soul.”

After Noel left, I slid awkwardly into the warm bath water. I could hear laughing in the kitchen. Had that been a sarcastic remark, Noel’s first joke? People really were loosening up around here. Nothing like a helpless, nasty-looking friend to unleash one’s goodwill and sense of humor.

I tried to resent them all, resent their intrusive presence and condescending helpfulness, their apparent wholeness. I’d turned my back on my own family years ago, or rather I’d returned their favor. I had my reasons—good reasons—and I hadn’t regretted it for a moment. Well, I hadn’t seriously regretted it. I also hadn’t regretted being wholly independent. In case you’re wondering, yes, wholly independent does look an awful lot like alone. At least from the outside. You get used to it, and you get territorial. The presence of other people in your life is annoying. It scrapes on raw nerves and taxes social muscles that are content to be atrophied.

Now my kitchen was full of people laughing, fixing food, and making themselves at home. They’d never asked if they could come in, and I tried to be angry about that too. I tried, but I couldn’t. If they’d asked, I’d have turned them away, like I do everyone. And I was glad they were here. I was glad. There, I said it, to myself if no one else. It didn’t even hurt that much. In fact, it was nice to be taken care of. Just for an evening.

I got out of the tub carefully, dried off and wrapped myself in a towel. Sitting on the fuzzy toilet lid, I looked down at the stopper in the tub and wondered if I’d pitch in headfirst if I tried to take it out. Noel came in and saved me the trouble. She’d found a shirt with a zipper for me, and after washing my hair I carefully dressed myself in clean clothes. Progress.

The five of us spent the evening hanging out and eating pizza from paper plates I didn’t know I had. Maybe they’d arrived with the groceries. I kept dozing off in my armchair, and occasionally I’d catch scraps of conversation out of context. The synaptic dislocation was almost enough to wake me up, but not quite. Instead the sound of familiar voices was reassuring. Mike and Richard left first. They still had to drive home to the Panhandle, but said they’d be checking in periodically. Ben left soon after, and Noel got me settled in for the night, preparatory to leaving.

She actually tucked me in, or the adult version of such a procedure. She left a glass of water and a bottle of pills on the nightstand by my bed, just in case. “There’s a chart on the fridge that tells you when to take your medication. Richard and I filled the prescriptions, and they’re on the counter by the fridge. There should be plenty of food, but if we missed something, I’ll be over tomorrow after work. I left my work number in case of emergency, and Ben’s next door if you need something. I think he finishes school this week, and he gets home pretty early. Of course, you know that.” Noel smiled. “Richard and I had an interesting talk when we went shopping. He’s a good man. You know, he really cares about you.”

“He’s married.”

“True.” She shook her head and started to rise. “True.”

The discussion of Richard’s marital status cleared my head enough to make me realize what had been nagging me all evening. “Noel, does Richard know who you are?”

“You mean, does he know I’m your client, or does know he defended my father for murdering my mother?” She smiled. “It hasn’t come up yet. And I only told him my first name.”

For a while after Noel left, I thought I’d finally had my fill of sleep. A short while. I couldn’t get my head around what was going on, and I couldn’t make myself care. My head got wooly again. I didn’t think about tomorrow. I didn’t think about anything. I just lay there until sleep came, and with it, dreams.

Pain woke me once, probably the result of an ill-advised sudden move in my sleep. I was still breathing hard with a vague recollection of being chased in the darkness. Once I’d stopped flailing around the pain left, and with the pain and the memory of the dream gone, I was able to get back to sleep pretty easily. Then I dreamed of Allan.