Blackwood Farm (31 page)

16

“THERE ARE
two sets of gates to Blackwood Farm—the formal gates that lead to the lane of pecan trees which come up to the front porch, and the other larger gates, way off to the east, for the caterer trucks, deliveries and tractors.

“It was out there, beside the big gates, that Pops had planted two big oak trees in memory of Sweetheart.

“He had apparently driven out there, sometime in the afternoon, with a flat of multicolored impatiens to plant around the trees, a project he'd mentioned on and off for a while now. And the Shed Men said later that he seemed confused and strangely unconcerned about the goings on at Sugar Devil Island. One side of his face had not looked right, and they had meant to go check on him.

“Patsy had gone out there, in her new truck, to talk to Pops, cursing to the Shed Men that she had to ask Pops for money again and she hated it, it wasn't fair and all that. She'd left Seymour behind because he didn't want to see any more scenes. And he'd been drinking beer with the Shed Men.

“It was Patsy who came screaming back, having already called for emergency help on her car phone, and the Shed Men drove out with Patsy to find Pops dead right by the flower bed. His hands were caked with earth.

“Big Ramona and Jasmine and Aunt Queen and I got there about the same time as the medical team. They couldn't bring him around, and we all piled into our assorted vehicles, Aunt Queen in the ambulance with Pops, and headed for the small hospital in Ruby River City.

“But it was all up for Pops. We'd known that when we first saw him by the oak tree. Sobbing uncontrollably, Aunt Queen ordered an autopsy, saying she just had to know the cause, and we went on to make the funeral arrangements.

“Aunt Queen proved utterly incapable of doing it.

“So, quivering and incoherent, I went with Jasmine to McNeil's Funeral Parlor and arranged for the pickup of the body, the night of the wake, and the directions for the drive into New Orleans for the funeral Mass at St. Mary's Assumption Church and the burial at Metairie Cemetery.

“The nice people at the funeral home said I could put off all the rest—the autopsy would take two days—but I thought why not get it over now? And so I picked a beautiful dark hardwood coffin that I thought Pops would like, being the handyman that he was, and I chose a Biblical quotation for the program from the Book of Psalms, and I arranged for a singer to sing Pops' favorite hymns, some of which were Catholic and some of which were Protestant.

“When I reached home I found Aunt Queen broken and unable to do anything but sob, and I didn't blame her. She said over and over that a woman shouldn't have to bury her great-nephew, that it was all wrong, terribly wrong.

“We called her favorite nurse, Cindy, who said she'd come right over. Aunt Queen wasn't really sick, but she often had Cindy to do her blood pressure and collect her bloodwork before trips abroad, and so Cindy was the loving person to whom we turned now.

“As for myself I was in a cold panic, the same cold panic that had been coming over me since Lynelle's death, but I hadn't reached the worst stage of it yet. I was still in the elation state that immediately follows the miracle of death, and, in my ignorant youth, I had a ‘take charge' attitude.

“I went into Pops' room and picked out his best Sunday suit, a good shirt, belt and a tie, and gave these to Clem to drive over to Ruby River City. I sent underwear too because I didn't know if it was needed. And I had the strange idea that Pops might want his underwear.

“After Clem had left me, and I was standing alone in Pops' room, Goblin appeared, and without a prompt he put his arms tight around me. He felt as real as I felt real. And I kissed his cheek, and I saw his tears. A rush of the most intimate love passed out of me into him.

“This was an extraordinary moment, a moment of confusion and contrition. And in the dark corners of my subconscious I knew it was a dangerous moment. But my heart was leading the band.

“ ‘Goblin, I loved Pops,' I said. ‘You understand, you understand everything.'

“ ‘Patsy. Bad,' he responded in the telepathic voice. I could feel his kisses on my cheek and my neck. For a split second, I felt his hand on my cock.

“I reached down and gently moved his hand away. But the damage had been done. I had to nail down hard on myself. Then I spoke to him:

“ ‘No, it's not Patsy's fault,' I said out loud. ‘She was just being Patsy, that's all. Now, you go and leave me alone now, Goblin. I have to go downstairs. I have to see to things.'

“He gave me a final hug and I was amazed at his strength. I could see nothing in him that appeared spectral or ephemeral. But he vanished as I had asked him to, and the baubles of the chandeliers moved as if he had evacuated the room at his departure.

“I stood staring at the chandelier. It hadn't hit me yet that nobody alive inhabited this back bedroom anymore. But it was trying to hit me. Things were trying to get through. Goblin had been the image of my weeping soul. Oh, I had so misjudged Goblin, but who would ever understand?

“When I came down to the kitchen, Patsy was sitting at the table just staring at me and Big Ramona was on one of the stools by the stove just staring at her. Lolly was there too, all dressed up for a date, her copper skin and rippling yellow hair just gorgeous, and there was Jasmine in her apron in the far corner by the back door.

“I could hear Aunt Queen crying in her bedroom. Her nurse, Cindy, had arrived, and I could hear Cindy's sympathetic tones as she tried to comfort her.

“Patsy's eyes were glassy and hard and she was chewing a piece of gum that made her jaw look hard. She put a cigarette on her lip and snapped her lighter. She had her huge poofed-up stage hairstyle, and her lips were thickly made-up with frosted pink lipstick.

“ ‘So everybody's going to want to know what we were talking about,' she said. There was a little tremor in her voice, a note I'd never heard before, but I wasn't sure anybody else heard it.

“ ‘Seymour says you wanted some money,' Jasmine said.

“ ‘Yeah, I wanted money,' said Patsy, in her hard voice, ‘and it's not like he didn't have it to give. He had it. Just wait till they read his will. He was loaded, and what did he ever do with it? But that's not what set him off to cursing and shouting at me and then grabbing for his chest and throwing up and dying.'

“ ‘So what did?' asked Jasmine.

“ ‘I told him I was sick,' said Patsy. ‘I told him I was HIV-positive.'

“Silence. Then Big Ramona looked at me.

“ ‘What's she talking about?' she asked.

“ ‘AIDS, Ramona,' I said. ‘She's HIV-positive. It means she's contracted the AIDS virus. She could come down with full-blown AIDS any time.'

“ ‘I'm the one that's sick,' Patsy said, ‘and he's the one that up and dies because he was mad at me, mad that I got it. You ask me, he died of grief. Grief for Sweetheart.' She broke off and looked from one to the other of all of us.

“ ‘Grief's what killed him,' she went on. She shrugged. ‘I didn't kill him. You should have seen what he was doing out there. He'd rolled over one row of pansies with his truck, and there he was laying another bed of them, like he didn't even know what he'd done with his truck. I said, “Look at what you've done, you sniveling crazy old man.” He started in on all that, “You sold her wedding dress!” like that wasn't so over, sniveling crazy old fool, and he said he wasn't giving me a red cent, and then I told him. I told him I had medical bills to pay.'

“I was too stunned to think, but I heard myself ask her, ‘How did you get it?'

“ ‘How should I know?' she replied, looking at me with those brittle glossy eyes. ‘From some bastard who had it, probably a user, I don't know, I've got an idea and then I don't. It wasn't Seymour, don't you go blaming him. And don't you go telling him either. Don't you none of you tell anybody what I'm telling you. Don't you go telling Aunt Queen. Seymour and I have a gig tonight. But the thing is, I can't pay the rest of the pickers unless I have some money.'

“By pickers, she meant the guitar players who'd be backing her up.

“ ‘You expect one of us to go in there and ask Aunt Queen for money?' asked Big Ramona. ‘Cancel your goddamned gig. You got no business playing music tonight when your father is stone dead at the mortuary in Ruby River City.'

“Patsy shook her head. ‘I'm flat broke,' she said. ‘Quinn, go in there and get some money for me.'

“I swallowed, I remember that, but I don't remember how long it was before I could answer her. Then I remembered that I had Pops' money clip in my jeans. They'd given it to me, along with his keys and his handkerchief, at the hospital.

“I took it out and I looked at it. It was a wad of twenty-dollar bills, but there were also more than several hundreds. He always saved those hundred-dollar bills just in case something came up. I counted it all out—one thousand dollars—and I gave it to her.

“ ‘You telling the truth about being HIV?' Jasmine asked.

“ ‘Yeah, and I see you're all crying buckets,' said Patsy. ‘He blew his stack when he heard. You're just one big sympathetic family.'

“ ‘Anybody know outside of us?' Jasmine asked.

“ ‘No,' Patsy said. ‘I just told you not to tell anybody, didn't I? And why are you asking me, you worried about your precious bed-and-breakfast? There's nobody left to run it, case you haven't noticed. Unless you all are taking over.' She shot a mean glance at each of us in turn. ‘I guess Little Lord Tarquin here could become the youngest bed-and-breakfast owner in the South, now, couldn't he?'

“ ‘I'm very sorry, Patsy,' I said. ‘But it's not a death sentence anymore, being HIV. There are drugs, lots of drugs.'

“ ‘Oh, save it, Little Lord Tarquin!' she shot at me.

“ ‘Is that going to be my name from now on? I don't like it,' I fired at her. ‘I was trying to tell you about medicine, advances, hopes. They have a special clinic for research at Mayfair Medical, that's all I'm trying to say.'

“ ‘Oh, yeah, research, fine with your wonderful education, you know all about those things,' she hammered. ‘Lynelle's little genius. You haven't seen her ghost lately, have you?'

“ ‘Patsy, you're not working any gig tonight,' declared Big Ramona.

“ ‘Are you getting decent treatment?' Jasmine asked. ‘Just tell us that much.'

“ ‘Oh, yeah yeah, I know all about decent treatment,' Patsy said. ‘I'm a musician, remember. You don't think I never shot up? That's probably how I got it, needles, not being tacked to the mattress. And all it takes is one time and all that, and I never shoot up except when I'm drunk, and so there we are, Miss Patsy Blackwood's not long for this world, ‘cause she got drunk and shot up with somebody else's needle, but so far she's not symptomatic.'

“She shoved the money in her shoulder bag and stood up.

“ ‘Where are you going, girl!' Big Ramona said, standing up to block Patsy from the back door. ‘You're not working a gig with your father dead.'

“ ‘The hell I'm not, and I'm working it in Tennessee so I got to get on the road. Seymour's waiting.'

“ ‘You can't leave here,' I said. ‘You can't not come to the funeral!'

“ ‘Watch me not come to it,' she sneered.

“The screen door banged shut behind her. I ran after her.

“ ‘Patsy, you'll regret this all your life,' I said. I ran along beside her to her van. ‘Patsy, you're not thinking. It hasn't sunk in. You have to go through with this. Everybody will expect you to care enough to be there. Patsy, listen to me.'

“ ‘Like my life is going to be long, Quinn! My life? That old man. I told him I was HIV and he went crazy! You should have heard him cursing me and the crowd I run with; you wanna know what his final words were to me? “Damn the day you were born,” and then he went down, gasping and throwing up his guts. I wouldn't come to his funeral if he was going to rise from the dead. If you see his ghost, you tell him I hate him. Now get away from me.'

“She and Seymour were off, screeching tires and all, and I just stood there, feeling the panic again, and within seconds the cold thought came over me that I didn't care whether Patsy came or not. It would do nothing to lessen the pain in me. Probably, it didn't matter to anyone.

“It would just be one of those things that people would talk about all over the parish.

“Only being near to my Jasmine or Big Ramona or Aunt Queen would help me.

“I made my way back inside. I could smell the pancakes Big Ramona was cooking up for me, and hunger seemed a reason to be alive, to put off for a little while telling Aunt Queen that Patsy would not be there for the funeral. In fact, maybe I'd never even mention it.

“The autopsy took only a day.

“Pops had suffered a massive heart attack.

“The funeral was enormous. It began with a long evening wake in Ruby River City to which all manner of people came, including shop owners, repairmen, carpenters, woodworkers—in summary, the many, many people in all walks of life whom Pops had known and who were devoted to him.

“I was staggered by the sheer number of young boys and young men who looked up to Pops and said he'd been like a father or uncle to them. It seemed that everyone respected Pops and he was much more well known than I had ever imagined.

“Ugly Henderson and his whole clan were there, and so were the Dirty Hodges, all cleaned up, which had never happened before, their only bathtub being full of greasy auto parts. Sheriff Jeanfreau was crying.

“As for Patsy's absence, it was a total scandal. And the excuse that she had a show she had to work in Tennessee didn't cut her any slack with anybody. People had not only expected her to be at the funeral, they had expected her to sing.