Light the Hidden Things (20 page)

Sophia put a quieting hand on her daughter's head. "Why don't you go tell Major Crow's here? We shouldn't surprise him too much, should we?"

Amber nodded hard, then, to Crow, "The doctor said he shouldn't get excited. We made him a bed in the kitchen. He sleeps a lot. Daddy says he likes it there 'cause of all the food smells. I think he's just trying to get better. What...?

Sophia cut her off. "Now, sweetheart. Mr. Crow doesn't want to stand here waiting, okay?"

"Oh." Amber ran off.

Crow said, "I thought we dropped the Mister."

She gave him a look. "Not her. Not for a good many more years. But that's not why I sent her off. You're not really well, are you?"

"I'm fine. The kid surprised me, that's all."

"Then why are you bracing against my fence? You're pale as a ghost. I'm going to call Dr. Newton while you visit with Major."

Crow shook his head and cursed his weakness. Then Sophia's worried face blurred. Bright sunshine dimmed in his eyes but, perversely, he was suddenly oppressively hot. He bent his knees so he could plant both hands on the white pickets. He said, "I just... Some time alone," and slid to the ground.

Martha looked up from the cash register and smiled at the dark man coming in the door. He had the air of someone on an errand, rather than someone ready to eat. And it was mid-afternoon, too early even for the early-to-dinner, early-to-bed bunch.

Garza reached her before she made any progress figuring him out. He said, "My name's Hector Garza, ma'am. A friend of mine was in here a few days ago. At least I think he was. I'm looking for folks who know him."

Martha was apologetic. "We see a lot of people. If you have a picture...?

He fumbled at a shirt pocket. "For sure. And a receipt from here." He put them on the counter like credentials.

Martha stared down at Crow's bandaged head, his eyes closed, rugged features slack and pale in a hospital bed. She gasped. "What happened? "

"Concussion, ma'am. He's doing fine; don't worry. Full recovery's going to take time, though. I couldn't find any family, you know? I was hoping maybe someone here?"

He moved to retrieve the picture, not nearly quick enough. Martha snatched it. One finger lightly touched the bandage. "Poor Crow. Family? No, no one. Or if he does, I don't think he'll tell you. Just him and that big old ugly dog." A small smile touched her features. "What's your connection with him? Where is he? What happened? "

Garza described the accident. When he identified himself as a nurse, Martha nodded. "I figured, just listening to you - doctor or a nurse." She studied the picture again. All her years showed in her gaze. "I can't help you. Poor Crow. You're sure he'll get well?"

"In due time. That's the trouble. He can't stay with us and he won't go to the hospital in Seattle. He shouldn't be alone. I was hoping..."

Martha clapped, stopped him. "He's retired military. There's a VA hospital in Seattle. He can stay there. But the dog... I never thought to ask. Is Major all right? Please don't tell me Crow lost that dog. I don't know if the man could take that."

Garza said, "Major's getting better, too. He was hurt pretty badly." He explained about Crow's self-release from the clinic and the aftermath. He ended with a helpless gesture. "He could kill himself, ma'am. I got him to promise he'll stay at the Miles' until he's stronger, but I know he's going to take off in a couple days, no matter what."

Martha glared. "Why? You said the little girl's taking good care of Major. I'd think they'd be glad to help him."

"That's the whole thing. Like, he blames himself, you know? Jason - that's Amber's dad - practically begged Crow to stay. Got turned down flat. I told Crow he's a danger on the road. Like, he loses control of that pickup, he could kill someone. His answer for that is he'll just go far enough to find a place to hole up until he's better."

Martha came out from behind the counter. She took Garza's elbow and steered him toward a table by the coffee machine where she filled two cups before sitting down. Garza, across from her, leaned forward. He said, "I'm afraid for him, ma'am. He's had other concussions, bad ones. Doc Newton checked. That makes this one all the more dangerous."

"Can they take away his driver's license?"

Garza's grin was twisted. "Wouldn't stop him. And, like Doctor Newton says, you can't lock a man up for what he might do. Didn't he say nothing about friends or family? He needs someone to kind of keep an eye on him. Support, like."

Martha said, "Did you tell him he could kill Major as well as himself?"

It took a startled moment for her to catch the bitterness in Garza's harsh laughter. He said, "You know what he told me? He said, 'We already rehearsed. We're as ready as anyone ever gets.'"

There was a touch of admiration in it that infuriated Martha. "That's not even bull-headed. It's just stupid." She stood up and shouted toward the kitchen. "Estelle. I need you."

A puzzled Estelle peered out. Martha told her, "I'm leaving for a while. You're in charge." Totally unaffected by Estelle's dropped-jaw amazement, Martha launched herself at the front door. Over her shoulder, she told Garza, "Don't just stand there, Hector. You're driving."

He hurried after her, less surprised by her imperiousness than by the fact that she remembered his first name.

*          *          *          *          *

Lila watched the two cars turn into the graveled front of her home and felt a tiny jolt of dark, inexplicable fear. Like many fears, it energized her. She felt as if an opportunity had just presented itself, one packed with risk. Her heart seemed to add a series of rapid extra beats.

Pastor Richard's tired old Chevy was the second car. He followed a later model Toyota.

Coming onto the porch, Zasu barked and frisked excitement at visitors. Lila picked her up, held her close. She thought of Crow's arrival. Guard dog Zasu challenging Major. Crow himself, moving slowly, like he knew he was wound too tight and was determined that no one find out.

She shook her head. This was too much like hearing voices. That disturbed moment of daydreaming when Crow left should have taught her to stay with the real world. Lila was determined she'd never play mind tricks like that on herself again. Not ever.

It was a relief to see Martha get out of the Toyota. The older woman was just the person to understand emotional over-reaction and help defeat it.

The driver was a stranger. Martha waved but waited for the Pastor to join her before moving toward the building. Lila put the squirming Zasu down to run to them. "Martha, Pastor; good to see you. What brings you out here?" She smiled at the younger man, including him in the welcome.

Pastor Richards said, "I haven't the faintest idea. Martha called me at home. Said she'd swing by in this gentleman's car and I was to follow her. All very mysterious."

Martha sent him a bogus glare. "When you're on a secret mission you don't just say everything on the phone. Anybody could be listening."

Pastor Richards said, "I was listening. If I'm supposed to be a mystery man, shouldn't someone tell me what I'm being mysterious about? "

Martha sniffed, then told Lila, "This is Hector Garza. He's a nurse from a clinic over on Kitsap Peninsula. He has a story you and Andy should hear."

Confusion and curiosity checked Lila's welcoming manner. She recovered quickly and waved at the store. "A nurse? I don't understand. Would you like to come in, sit down?"

Anticipation rumbled inside Lila while she led the way. It made her think of a parade, where the bass drum stopped right in front of her, every beat vibrating her blood. What was truly eerie about it, though, was the delicious blend of delight and apprehension that held her now.

Martha was on Lila's heels when they stepped into the living room. Lila spun around at the older woman's hushed exclamation. Caught in her own thoughts, Martha stepped past Lila to center herself directly behind the two chairs at the fireplace. She put a hand on the back of one and pivoted to inspect the room. At last, beaming, she told Lila, "It's perfect. New furniture, new bookshelves. You saved these wonderful chairs, though, thank heaven." She looked away, the smile a bit forced now. "There was always a special feel in here. Maybe you sensed it as a little girl. I certainly did, back when I was a young bride." Suddenly almost fierce in her intensity, she locked her gaze on Lila's. "They loved each other so."

Lila tried to respond. Martha overrode her. She said, "They were content. There's a word you hardly hear anymore. They had so little. At the same time, they had everything. This room - it knows that love. It won't ever let it go."

For a moment Lila was caught up in the spell cast by Martha's memories. It lulled her into a world of comfort, yet one that spoke of an aching longing. She yanked herself out of that and hurried to seat her guests on the sofa while she pulled up an occasional chair to face them.

Martha said, "Hector, tell them what you told me, please."

Lila's certainty that the subject was Crow shocked her to hyper-attentiveness. Unconsciously, she leaned forward. When he was done with his story she couldn't find words for her feelings.

Pastor Richards said, "That's terrible. When you see him, tell him we're all praying for his quick recovery. He and I - we seemed to hit it off. I could go back with you to visit. I could talk to him, perhaps settle his mind a little. I think he'd trust me."

Martha spoke as if musing to herself. "Even if we managed to stay a day or two, that's not the answer. On the way here, Hector said it'd be weeks - maybe more than a month - before anyone could be sure Crow's out of trouble."

Garza said, "Concussion's cumulative. Another injury..." He shook his head. "That could be very serious. And then..."

Lila interrupted, speaking to Martha. "You got us all together because you have some sort of plan. What?"

Surprised, Garza stared at the older woman. Pastor Richards was speculative. Martha met their looks with cool disdain before concentrating on Lila. "I had an idea, of course, dear. 'Plan' is too strong a word. I don't make plans where other people's lives are concerned." A quick turn of her head fired off another smile that broadsided the Pastor like a runaway train. "I think we have a Christian obligation to do whatever we can to help Crow, don't you?"

Pastor Richards leaned back in his chair. "Oh, how often the phrase 'Christian obligation' makes me wish I knew more about exorcism."

Martha looked down her nose. "Well, someone slept under the cranky bush last night, didn't they?" She reached to pat Lila's knee. "You'd never turn away from a person in need, would you? I couldn't."

Pastor Richards straightened. "Hold on. I never said I..."

Martha talked through his protest. "All I'm
suggesting
is we find a place nearby where he can live and recover. The three of us - and George - and Herman Odegaard; he met Crow - we could take turns visiting, just check in now and then. Maybe introduce some other folks - other members of the church board, the congregation; you know. Neighborly. Someone might even find light work for him - like Herman, with his woodworking. Or George; he's always needing part time people at the store so he can go give speeches."

Lila's smile bent sideways under the weight of exasperation. She mimed wide-eyed questioning. "Let's all put on our thinking caps, shall we? Someplace quiet, out of town where he could park that Airstream? A place where he could putter? Where someone would be close enough to keep an eye on him, the way Hector said? Oh my; wherever would we even start to look?"

Martha had the grace to look away and blush.

Pastor Richards said, "Good gracious, Martha, you've outdone yourself."

"Oh, hush. It was just a thought."

"A bad one. Well intentioned, of course, but out of the question."

Lila said, "Martha, you darling. Your idea's exactly like you. The man's made himself into the perfect stranger and you still want to lead the charge to help him. You know how much I'd like to join you. But the Pastor's right. You know my situation. "

Garza said, "Ms. Milam's right. Crow probably wouldn't stand for a deal like that, anyhow. Like, you folks only knew him for a couple days. He'd see it as charity, you know? He'd balk."

The Pastor softened. "We all wish we could help, Martha. Mr. Garza's put his finger on the real issue, though. Crow wouldn't listen. Anyhow, in the end, Lila'd be doing almost all the caretaking. It sounds cruel to say it in so many words, but she can't be asked to jeopardize her happiness. After all, Crow's chosen to be what he is."

Martha said, "It is cruel, Andy. I expected more charity from you."

He flinched, then, "We have two people to think about. Should we risk Lila's peace of mind for a slim chance of helping Crow? Where's the charity in that?"

Lila deliberately blocked out their argument. The whole matter of what she should or could do about Crow left her with a feeling she'd never had before. It went beyond sadness. She struggled to confront the feeling, thinking if she identified it perhaps she could better resist it.

It was like being lost, as if she'd missed a turn in a road, yet she saw nothing that suggested any change in her direction. With her guest's conversation droning in the background, she fought the sense that something had been torn out of her life. And she didn't even know what.