Somewhat Saved (30 page)

Read Somewhat Saved Online

Authors: Pat G'Orge-Walker

45
Bea was the first one to wake. Her bladder was doing its thing even if she couldn't participate. Her legs had stiffened as had her back. She howled in pain when she tried to move.
Sister Betty and Sasha jumped. Bea's howling causing them to wake in confusion. None of them knew how long they'd been sleeping but the bright light flickering into the room from the outside was the only light.
“It's night already?” Sister Betty remarked to Sasha, who appeared to have gathered her wits.
They wiped sleep from their eyes and spittle from the corners of their mouths as they watched Bea struggling to make it to the bathroom, hopefully, in time.
“I see she's none the worse?” Sasha commented. She turned and adjusted her glasses, trying to see the clock. “What time is it?”
“It's getting dark outside. That's all I know.” Sister Betty didn't bother looking at the clock. Whatever time it was, it was time for those two to get out of her suite.
Sasha ignored Sister Betty's yawning. She knew it was a not-too-subtle sign for her to leave. “So what are we going to do about Zipporah? Do you think June Bug will say anything?”
“I don't know,” Sister Betty answered sharply. It was her answer to both questions.
Bea returned to the living room. She walked slowly and with her legs parted a bit more than necessary.
“She didn't make it,” Sasha said as she pinched her nose to let Bea know that they knew what had happened.
If Bea got the hint she didn't take it. She plopped all her weight back onto the chair and stared at Sasha. “Drink some Listerine for that bad breath and you won't have to hold your own nose when you speak.”
Sasha rose slowly. Switching her tiny hips as she approached Bea, she slowed down in front of her to give it an extra shake, then went into the bathroom.
“Well, I've had about enough,” Sister Betty announced. “This craziness ends tonight!”
“How's that . . . ?” Bea shifted in her seat to face Sister Betty just in case she'd not heard her correctly.” Repeat that.”
“I'm ordering some food, and I'm not asking either of you what you want to eat. You'll eat whatever I order.” Sister Betty's voice took on a bass tone as though she'd been possessed by an authority spirit. “We'll decide what to do about Zipporah and Jasper. Then ya'll get out of my room!”
She made no apologies to them or to God. Sister Betty determined right then and there that whatever happened, she was getting on a plane the next day. Pelzer never meant as much to her as it did at that moment. She was going home and if she had to repent, she'd do it in Pelzer.
Bea didn't often use good judgment. She decided to use some. Not saying one word would be a start.
The hospital ICU seemed a bit different at night. The staff wasn't as hurried as the ones on the day shift.
Jasper had been moved to another room on the other side of the unit. He'd be closer to the nurses' station and the room had more of the equipment he suddenly needed. That wasn't the only difference between the rooms.
There was an outer room with a sink, a cabinet, several one-size-fits-all yellow gauze material gowns, and a box of latex gloves. A sign over the next entry door ordered visitors to don the items before entering.
Jasper, having been moved into the new ICU room, seemed to have improved dramatically. There were still the tubes, the oxygen tank with its huge valve looking imposing, and monitors connected to him, but he looked more comfortable. He was.
In fact, ever since Jasper had earlier seen the strange shadows and felt the presence of his child, his discomfort had diminished. Even the threat of Bea trying, intentionally or not, to kill him hadn't retarded his progress. Was he going to die? Of course he was. He'd accepted it. Was it going to be that day? No, he would not accept that.
Jasper felt the presence of another in the room. The doctors had lowered his medication dosages, so he was a bit more alert than he chose to show, whenever he was examined. The fragrance was strange and yet familiar to him. It was dark in his room with the exception of a dimmed light over the sink on the far wall. The figure was female, of that he was certain. But who was she? He didn't think it was one of the nurses. They called him by name as they entered. He didn't see a mop or a broom in her hand, so she couldn't be a cleaner.
Jasper looked past the slowly approaching figure and saw it was dark outside. He didn't know the time or if visiting hours were still in effect. His head turned back to watch her. She walked as though she were afraid. He was the one sick. What could he possibly do to her?
 
 
A large cart sat outside Sister Betty's hotel room. All that food she'd ordered and yet they'd hardly touched a bite.
“So for the last time,” Sister Betty said, “we do agree that Zipporah will be told and that Sasha should do it.”
“Bea is so in love with the girl, I still don't see why I have to be the one.” Sasha sat with her arms folded against her pecan-sized breasts like a stubborn child. She seemed to forget that she was the one who insisted that she do it.
“I thought you were in agreement?” Sister Betty asked. They'd discussed it at least ten times.
“I don't mind doing it but I don't want to break that child's heart,” Bea said. “Sasha's her aunt and all those Hellraisers do is go around breaking hearts. She's got the experience, if nothing else.”
“That's it!” Sister Betty snarled. “You two, get out of my room. I'm calling June Bug. He can tell her and let the chips fall where they may.”
“June Bug ain't kin!” Sasha's hiss sounded like a rattler's rattle. “You can't just have someone tell her all willy-nilly.”
“Well, you do it then.” Sister Betty looked around for something to grab hold of before that something became Sasha's throat.
“Not me, I can't do it.” Sasha moved out of the way just in time to avoid Sister Betty's hands, which ended up grasping a soda can off the table.
“Why can't it be Areal?” Bea asked again. “I still say that if she's the momma, then she ought to take some responsibility, too.”
“She won't have any part of it,” Sasha said sadly. “I can't make her change her mind. Besides that, she still blames me for making her give up the child. She says that I have no right to now come back and involve her. She's made her peace and to her, she only has one child, and that's Ima.”
“That's just ridiculous.” Sister Betty still couldn't believe Areal's selfish attitude toward her own child.
“That may be,” Sasha said, “but she won't let Jasper tell Zipporah about her either. That is if he ever gets the chance to tell Zipporah he's her father.” She stopped and threw a conspiring look toward Bea.
“Don't look at me. I only attempt one killing per day, unless it involves removing your butt.”
Sister Betty left Sasha and Bea bickering at the table while she went to the phone. She dialed a number and waited, it seemed an eternity, before an answer. She spoke a few words into the phone and returned to the table.
“Okay,” Sister Betty announced. “I can't reach June Bug.”
“Did you try his cell phone?” Sasha asked with annoyance. In her mind, she would've done that.
Sister Betty got up again and went to the phone. She dialed Chandler's cell phone. “He's not picking up,” she said before leaving the same message as before and hanging up.
No sooner had she sat down than Bea asked, “Why didn't you try Zipporah's room?”
Sister Betty had no answer for that, so she returned to the phone. She called Zipporah's room and got her voice mail, too. She left a similar message and hung up. Before she came back to the table she put her hands on her hips and asked, sharply, “Are there any other bright ideas before I cut a path in this carpet going back and forth?”
“What's her problem?” Sasha leaned over and whispered to Bea.
“I don't know, but she sure don't know how to treat company,” Bea replied in a huff.
No sooner had Sister Betty sat down than Sasha announced new business to be discussed. “Sister Betty,” Sasha said, “Bea and I want you to withdraw your nomination, this time in writing, for the Mothers Board president. It'll also cover any other positions you might want to steal.”
Bea had completely forgotten about that but she was glad Sasha was still on top of things. “You really don't have the experience to handle the craziness that comes along with the job,” Bea added.
And that's when Sister Betty grabbed two more soda cans from the table. She symbolically squeezed them as she envisioned Bea's and Sasha's necks. And, again, she didn't apologize to them or to God.
46
There wasn't enough light inside Jasper's ICU room to see clearly, so he closed his eyes, although he could still tell that he wasn't alone. The figure seemed hesitant in its approach, but he didn't feel threatened.
“Jasper.” She'd said it almost as though she questioned who lay in the bed.
Jasper slowly opened his eyes and turned toward the voice. He lifted one hand as though he were in school announcing he was present.
Even in the dimmed light and from where she stood, she saw it. The track lights a few feet up the wall and over the bed added a little more light. She saw the leaf birthmark and it stopped her dead in her tracks. Frightened, she fled from the room.
Jasper's head fell back against the pillow. No one had to tell him, he knew. It was his child. Zipporah knew who he was. Jasper smiled even as the heart monitor began to hum louder and beep quicker. He knew.
Zipporah came rushing from Jasper's room and straight into Chandler's arms. She was crying but not as loud as she had back at the hotel. It seemed all she'd done in the last few hours was cry.
“What happened?” Chandler asked. He'd been certain after all he'd told Zipporah about her father that she'd be fine when she saw him. There were some things that he didn't tell her but it didn't seem important at that moment. Zipporah didn't know about her father's wealth or the whereabouts of her mother.
“I saw it,” Zipporah said as she wiped her eyes and moved from Chandler's arms. “I saw it and it's just like the one I have.”
“Well, what did he say? You didn't seem to be in there long enough to talk about things.”
“I didn't say anything except whisper his name.”
An announcement that visiting hours were over in twenty minutes came over the loud speaker, raising Zipporah's anxiety level.
He took her by the hand. “We prayed before we left the hotel, Zipporah,” Chandler reminded her. “But if you don't want to go through with it, then don't.”
Zipporah gave Chandler her answer with silence. She pulled away and turned around. With her shoulders erect, she took a deep breath and reentered Jasper's outer room. Twenty minutes was not a long time but it was a start. Inside, she discarded the sterile gown and gloves, replaced them with a new set, and went back into Jasper's room.
As soon as Zipporah went inside, Chandler found a seat by the door. All he could do was pray, again. It wasn't the low, growling, prayerful voice that he'd often heard his precious Ma Cile use when she'd cry out to God. This time, he talked to God like God was one of his boys, but with more respect.
He alternated between questioning God's motives for the wreck Zipporah had as a life and thanking God for bringing her into his. When it was all said and done, he realized that like Zipporah, he, too, wasn't raised by his parents. He really didn't know his father. He'd seen him perhaps three times in his entire life and at this point didn't know if he were dead or alive. His mother, young when she had him, was too preoccupied with the bright lights of the city to raise him. He thanked God freely for Ma Cile and his cousin, Lil Bit, whom he loved like a sister.
Zipporah hadn't had a grandmother to love or care about her. She'd been moved around the foster care system like she was a chess piece, only to end up homeless. But her voice—what a magnificent instrument! It surely had to be a gift.
“Eighteen minutes until visiting hours are over.” The announcement sounded prophetic to Chandler. Eighteen minutes to go before he would discover whether Zipporah would come out of that room better or worse than she'd gone inside.
 
 
He'd heard the outer door to the room open. She'd come back. Jasper could feel the change in air. It felt lighter; no doubt her presence chased away all that was negative around him. She still hadn't spoken beyond saying his name, but he held on to that.
Strange how when you know you're dying, your senses heighten,
he thought.
He could almost count how many footsteps it would take before she reached his bed. One . . . two . . . three; she was probably by the sink where the nurses washed their hands or filled the tray to bathe him.
Four . . . five . . . six; she had to be very close because he could smell his child. Her scent was wonderful and it covered the alcohol smell that made him nauseous. He never liked hospital odors. Did she dislike them, too? If he got a chance, he'd ask her.
“Jasper Epps?” she whispered softly.
His heart hastened. Again, the beeping sound from the heart monitor hurried to keep up. He liked the way she said his name. In his mind, he didn't hear “Jasper Epps.” Instead, he'd heard her say, “Daddy.”
Everything she'd said she wouldn't do or say, Zipporah thought about doing and saying. No matter how sick he was, she was going to give him hell. She didn't care how many years he'd searched for her; he should've been there all along. “Jasper Epps,” she repeated.
Jasper struggled to remove the nose pillow insertions carrying his precious air. His child needed him. She'd called his name. They were only in his nose and yet, they felt as though they were preventing him from answering.
Zipporah watched the tube from the oxygen tank rise and collapse as the man strained to remove the nose pillows. It seemed to be keeping time with her footsteps as she neared the bed.
“Fifteen minutes until visiting hours are over.” The announcement seemed to personally urge her toward the bed. Her feet picked up the pace.
Jasper's eyes widened as she neared.
Oh my,
he thought,
she's beautiful. My baby is just gorgeous. She, so much, reminds me of my own mother. Like Zipporah, she was a beautiful woman, perhaps a little thicker and darker, but a beauty no less.
“Are you okay?” What a stupid question, Zipporah thought. It wasn't like they'd just chatted and she stopped by to see how he was doing.
Jasper weakly nodded his chin to let her know that he was fine. If “fine” meant that he knew he was dying and he was okay with it, then yes, he was fine.
There were no questions that could be asked or answered in the short time they had. But she had to accomplish something. Zipporah couldn't leave without doing that.
And, from the look on her father's face, he wasn't about to let her. If it took his last breath, he wouldn't let her leave without a part of him.
 
 
No amount of noise inside the Luxor casino could match the noise coming from the corner by the roulette wheel. Somehow or other, Bea and Sasha had hounded Sister Betty into coming downstairs with them. At first, it was under the pretense of looking for Zipporah. They'd pushed Sister Betty's buttons, and sliced up her last nerve, until she felt that if she didn't go with them, she'd have to kill them.
When the old women arrived downstairs, each of them still wearing what they'd worn the entire day, they discovered Zipporah didn't have a show that evening. And, of course, Bea had to use the bathroom. Sister Betty decided she might as well do the same since Bea was going. Sasha was okay with her toilet needs. No one could hold their water or a grudge for as long as Sasha could. However, only Bea and Sasha knew that the only way to the bathroom on that floor was through the casino.
It took more harassment but they finally got Sister Betty to walk through the den of iniquity to reach the bathroom. Somehow, in Sister Betty's sanctified mind, killing Bea and Sasha wasn't on the same sin level as a walk through the casino to pee.
Magically, as soon as they neared the roulette table and a few empty chairs, Bea no longer needed to use the bathroom. She managed to collapse into one of the seats, pulling Sister Betty down with her. Faster than a toad's sticky tongue caught a flying insect, Bea's chubby hands produced a few casino chips she'd had from her previous visit. She slammed a few dollar chips down on number twenty-two. She then announced, “This is for Sister Betty,” and slammed the rest of the chips in her hand down on the green zero.
“You old hell hound,” Sister Betty snapped. “You know I don't gamble.”
“And the number is zero,” the worker announced as he immediately started racking aside all losing chips. The ball had landed on the zero, which paid 35-to-1 odds.
Bea had placed five one-dollar chips on the zero in Sister Betty's name. Everyone at the table heard her when she said she had. But as soon as the pile of one hundred and seventy-five dollars in chips was set in front of Sister Betty, Bea caught a sudden case of amnesia.
In the meantime, Sister Betty had just reached for the chips, having already determined in seconds that she was going to give the chips to Chandler. He'd know what to do with them. But Bea had pushed her hand away and started bickering over the law of possession and insanity.
While Bea bickered with Sister Betty, Sasha watched and smiled. “It's a good thing I'm saved now,” she mumbled.
And while Bea and Sister Betty argued, the roulette game continued. The man spun the wheel, flicked the ball, and again, the ball hopped several times before landing on zero. “They let it ride,” the man said as he pushed another one hundred and seventy-five dollars in chips in front of Sister Betty.
And that's when Sister Betty hiked her skirt and sat down. “I'm gonna whup ya like the good Lord did when He chased out the money changers.”
Bea was so shocked she stopped fussing and sat down, too. “Are you planning on betting and quoting scripture?”
“I got to get in on this.” Sasha laid her cane under a seat and then climbed up on it. She peered over her eyeglasses at Sister Betty and cackled, “I never knew that being saved could be so much fun and profitable.”
And while Bea, Sasha, and Sister Betty did a little recreational gambling and held a church service at the roulette wheel, a few of the other members from the Mothers Board watched from the casino doorway.
The old mothers, dressed in white, clutching their favorite Bibles, held their noses in the air. They'd just arrived from a nearby revival service. Weak bladders were common to them, and out of a sense of urgency, they'd decided to pray their way through the casino to reach the bathrooms on the other side. But every urge to tinkle was put on hold as the judgmental old women watched in horror and fascination. Each punched and pinched the other, pointing at Sister Betty, Bea, and Sasha gambling.
Neither Bea, Sasha, nor Sister Betty had realized that in an instant, they'd placed bets on more than just the roulette wheel. By the time those old mothers returned to their rooms with their revised observations, the odds on Bea's, Sasha's and Sister Betty's reputations and more importantly, their salvation would be long shots. And, forget about a presidential win.

Other books

Kathryn Le Veque by Lord of Light
The Glass Ocean by Lori Baker
Hip Deep in Dragons by Christina Westcott
Scraps & Chum by Ryan C. Thomas
The Elder Gods by David Eddings, Leigh Eddings
Whispers of the Dead by Simon Beckett
Gates to Tangier by Mois Benarroch
Always For You (Books 1-3) by Shorter, L. A.
Days in the History of Silence by Merethe Lindstrom