Between Dusk and Dawn (28 page)

“
Hello Mrs. Richard.”
LaShaun remembered the second name from the room sign. “How are you
doing today?”

“
Goo--good.” Mrs. Richard
had difficulty speaking, but she seemed to be
comfortable.

“
Glad to hear it.” LaShaun
felt kindness from Mrs. Richard’s soul, and it mixed with
delightful mischief. “I’m just going to visit with Miss Flora Lee
for a few minutes. I’ll try not to disturb you.”

“
Humph.” Mrs. Richard gave
a little chuckle to signal she didn’t mind a bit of disturbance to
break up her day.

LaShaun nodded her understanding and
went to the other bed. Mrs. Young sat up. To LaShaun’s surprise she
looked alert. A magazine lay in her lap, a copy of American
Catholic. Yet her gaze was fastened on the scene outside the
window. With any luck Mrs. Young was having a good day.

“
Morning Miss Flora Lee,”
LaShaun said quietly so as not to startled her.

Mrs. Young blinked at the sound then
slowly turned her head. Her gaze shifted from the window to LaShaun
in slow motion. She blinked a few times as though trying to focus.
“Who you be, child?”

“
I’m LaShaun Rousselle,
Odette’s granddaughter. Francine was my mama.” LaShaun carried a
chair covered in rust colored imitation leather to the bedside and
sat down. “We lived over on Rousselle Lane by Mr. Marchand. You
know...”

“
Odette and me used to roam
them woods when I was a child. Francine was your mama, you say?”
Mrs. Young blinked at her again. She pursed her lips and
frowned.

“
Let me get you some
water.” LaShaun stood and crossed to a side table with a pitcher on
it. The ice had melted, but at least there was water left. She
poured some into a glass and found a straw.

“
Thank you,” Mrs. Young
murmured. She sipped from the plastic cup. Her hands seemed too
weak to hold it for long.

“
You’re welcome.” LaShaun
placed the cup back on the table and sat in the chair again. Mrs.
Richard lay on her side watching and smiling her approval. “I’m
sorry to hear you’re not feeling well.”

“
The good Lord watches over
me.” Mrs. Young looked out of the window again in a distracted
manner.

“
Then you’re in good
hands,” LaShaun said.

“
I always got along with
Odette. Lots of folks talked against her, but I never had reason to
pay that any mind. I was married and gone when Francine was still a
girl.” Mrs. Young eyes cleared as she studied LaShaun. Her thick
eyebrows of gray and black hair lifted.

“
Your husband told me y’all
were friends,” LaShaun said. The older woman’s mind was clearing,
LaShaun sensed it.

“
Orin talked to you,” Mrs.
Young said softly.

“
He came to see me about
your grandson.” LaShaun didn’t want to upset Mrs. Young. She seemed
frail, mentally and physically.

“
Manny.” Mrs. Young said
the name and sighed.

“
Yes. Mr. Young thinks
maybe I can help him, so I visited Manny.” LaShaun glanced at Mrs.
Richard. The other woman’s eyes had closed and she breathed
steadily.

“
You saw my boy?” Mrs.
Young’s heavily lined face brightened.

“
Yes, he’s doing well.”
LaShaun nodded.

“
Thank you Blessed Mother.”
Mrs. Young almost smiled. Then she seemed to remember where Manny
was and why he was there. The lines of sorrow and gloom took over
her face again. “So many wanted him dead, you know. I thought those
police or the guards would kill him and make it look like an
accident. Or say he’d tried to escape.”

“
No one has hurt him,”
LaShaun replied.

“
Not yet. I know what they
gonna do to him. Stick a needle full of death in his vein, and
watch him gasp his last breath. Vengeance is mine saith the Lord,
but man don’t care.” Mrs. Young’s voice trailed off. Her lips moved
as she mumbled softly.

“
The evidence went against
him.” LaShaun said. Mrs. Young startled her by looking at her
sharply, her eyes gleaming with fire.

“
I know what the boy did. I
pray for his soul.” Mrs. Young reached beneath the pillow and
pulled out a beautiful rosary made of wooden beads with a silver
crucifix.

“
Yes ma’am. I think he’s
sorry about the life he’s led.”

“
No,” Mrs. Young said with
such force her upper body shook. “I love that boy, Lord knows I do.
But he ain’t sorry. Part of it’s my fault.”

“
I don’t
understand.”

“
I didn’t have nowhere to
go, not to my family for sure. My daddy... by the time he died mama
was in the grave, too. I had them children. The girls, they blame
me. What could I have done differently?” She strained forward, her
eyes wide and filled with tears. “I took ‘em to mass. I tried to
soothe their hurt much as I could. Lord, please have mercy on
me.”

“
Flo-rahee?” Mrs. Richard
blinked at them, her head raised.

LaShaun left the chair and eased the
distraught woman back against the two large pillows. “Manny takes
responsibility for his own choices.”

“
Can’t stop thinking of
their sad eyes.” Mrs. Young gasped and breathed hard. She shook her
head. Tears flowed down her face.

LaShaun found a box of tissues and
wiped her cheeks dry. “My grandmother had many regrets about her
children. But she did the best she knew how at the time, and so did
you.”

“
You’re kind-hearted, not
at all like folks say. But the Lord is punishing me.” Mrs. Young
twisted the wad of tissues in her hand. “I’m forgetful about a lot
of things, but I can’t forget... some things just stay on my mind.
My girls needed me.”

“
I’m sure they know you
tried, just like Mr. Orin. He’s still trying to take care of
Manny.” LaShaun sat back in shock at the way her expression twisted
with bitterness. Then Mrs. Young laughed, and the sound scraped
across LaShaun’s nerves like ragged fingernails. Even Mrs. Richard
flinched and shook her head.

“
My husband likes being in
control, but Manny showed him. All of them finally got away you
see, “Mrs. Young whispered, and cackled softly to herself. Her
perverse grin crumpled, and her expression change again to one of
sorrow. She covered her face with the now tattered tissue and
whimpered.

A picture formed, not a vision this
time. Pieces of a puzzle formed from snatches of what Manny had
said and now from this poor woman. LaShaun leaned forward and tried
to pull Mrs. Young’s hands away, but she resisted. Voices in the
hallway came closer then faded as staff went past the door. Mrs.
Richard lay still, but her gaze was watchful.

“
Did he hurt the girls,
touch them the wrong way?” LaShaun said. She moved closer. Despite
the growing sense of repulsion for the ugliness she would uncover,
LaShaun pressed on. “You knew, but didn’t feel like you could stop
him?”

“
I prayed Manny wouldn’t be
like him, but God punished me for not doing enough. The Bible says
faith without works is dead.” Mrs. Young nodded wearily. “I deserve
to suffer.”

“
Manny turned out like his
daddy, Ethan,” LaShaun said, thinking of what Miss Clo had said
about Manny’s father.

“
Poor Ethan got beat down.
He took to drinking and then drugs. That was his way out. I didn’t
protect him either.”

“
That’s why your daughters
don’t want to come back even to visit.” LaShaun spoke more to
herself than to the distraught woman.

“
I don’t blame them, not
after they was free. They’re right to hate the sight of me,” Mrs.
Young said, her voice flat with pain.

“
Wait, you said Ethan used
drugs to escape. Was he--”

“
I didn’t give you
permission to come here.” Orin Young stood in the
doorway.

“
I wanted to check on my
grandmother’s old friend.” LaShaun stood as she spoke. Her smile
tested her facial muscles. Suddenly she didn’t like this
man.

“
We was talkin’ ‘bout the
weather is all, and old times... with Odette. Nothing else,” Mrs.
Young glanced at him briefly.

Orin Young walked over to the bedside
and gazed down at his wife. “Talkin’ too much ain’t good for you,
Flora Lee. It wears you out, and strains your heart. You know
that.”

“
You’re right, Orin,” Mrs.
Young murmured. Her fingers picked at the crocheted throw that lay
across the drab nursing home bedspread. “I just thought it was nice
of Odette’s girl to come see me. That’s all.”

LaShaun sensed the tiny hint of
rebellion in her voice. Orin Young’s neck muscles pulled into tight
cords, but he said nothing for a long time. His wife gazed out of
the window. Mrs. Richard made no sound, but LaShaun could see the
dislike in her chocolate brown eyes when her glance flickered to
Orin Young. A few seconds of charged silence stretched.

“
Is there some reason I
shouldn’t visit, Mr. Young?” LaShaun pushed back. He shot a heated
look in her direction. Her answering gaze dared him to make a
scene.

Mr. Young’s face strained into a
smile. “I’m just concerned about my wife. She’s not that
strong.”

“
Well, you don’t have to
worry. I was just about to leave anyway. Nice to see you, Miss
Flora Lee. Thanks for the stories about Monmon Odette when she was
young. She was certainly a character.” LaShaun leaned down and gave
the older woman a gentle hug. As she did so LaShaun said, “You take
care now, and I’ll come see you again.”

“
Thank you, darlin’. I
don’t get any other visits now that the girls are gone and
Manny...” Mrs. Young’s lips trembled.

“
Lay back and take your
rest.” Mr. Young walked to the bed and smoothed her gray hair down
with one hand.

Mrs. Young’s eyes blinked rapidly at
his touch. She pushed deeper into the pillows and turned to face
the drab faded green walls. LaShaun watched Mr. Young fuss over his
wife, patting her covers. He turned on the twenty-four inch flat
screen television on a table. The sound of a game show with bells
ringing came from the speakers.

“
There’s your favorite
show. You and Miz Richard can watch.” Mr. Young angled the screen
so the other woman could see it as well. “There now, you girls are
all set for a morning of entertainment. I’ll see your little
visitor out and be right back.”

He turned and gestured to LaShaun, a
clear signal that it was time for her to leave. As she walked past
Mrs. Richard’s bed, those dark expressive eyes told a story.
LaShaun had the clear sense that Mrs. Richard wished dearly that
she could slap him. Once they were in the hall Mr. Young closed the
door gently.

“
Thank you for taking an
interest in Flora Lee. Don’t think I’m not appreciative, but call
me if you want to visit again.” Mr. Young put a hand under
LaShaun’s elbow as they walked. He moved closer. “My poor wife’s
mind is feeble, but she never was too stable.”

LaShaun felt the strange heat coming
from his body. “She seemed fairly clear today.”

“
She has her good days, but
she talks and rambles on not making sense. And of course she
doesn’t remember things. I hope she didn’t upset you with any kind
of crazy stories.” Mr. Young nodded to the nurses.

One woman, about forty with flaming
red hair, grinned at him flirtatiously and glared at LaShaun.
“Hello, Mr. Young. I have a summary of your wife’s progress. We can
go over the results in my office.”

“
Thank you, Mrs. Wascom.
After I visit with Flora Lee I’ll come by on my way out.” Mr. Young
never stopped walking, and the nurse didn’t seem
pleased.

“
I don’t want to keep you
from being with your wife. I know how much she means to
you.”

LaShaun pushed through the glass doors
leading out of the nursing home. Bright sunlight bounced off the
surface of the light gray concrete of the parking lot. She put her
sunglasses on and faced him. They stood beneath the covered front
patio where attractive wooden rocking chairs were scattered. A
couple of elderly men sat smoking. A blues song came from a
portable CD player on a table.

“
There’s no rush getting
back to the poor dear.” Mr. Young glanced around. “They try to make
this place hospitable, but there’s still some sadness here. I find
it difficult at times, and feel so alone when I leave.”

“
I’m sure you miss your
wife after being so close all these years.” LaShaun nodded as if in
sympathy.

“
I’m blessed to be in good
health. This is a lonely life. After all the years of hard work
paid off, we’re more than comfortable when it comes to money. But
what is wealth without someone to share it with, eh?” Mr. Young
stood tall, his chest out. “All that land and a big old empty
house.”

LaShaun figured that line must have
worked wonders on the redhead inside. With a step back LaShaun gave
him a full body appraisal. His iron gray hair looked sleek and
thick. Well-built, he no doubt cut a fine figure in his youth. Even
at his age he looked strong and vital. And LaShaun found him quite
repellant.

“
You could bring Miss Flora
Lee home and hire sitters. I can recommend an excellent agency, the
same one that helped me take care of Monmon Odette. That way you
wouldn’t be so alone in that big house.” LaShaun smiled back at
him.