Charlotte Figg Takes Over Paradise (26 page)

"Mother, you should have gone with her. She could have fallen on that uneven ground. It's getting dark and even darker in the woods."

I grabbed her arm. "Come on. I need to know she made it home."

"Don't worry, Charlotte. I think that one-armed man went with her."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just remembered I saw them go into the forest together. There was a lot of excitement, dear."

"I'm sorry I snapped at you, and it's not a forest. Just a patch of woods."

"Trees are trees," Mother said.

I still felt relieved once we made it out of the woods without seeing Hazel splayed out on the ground with her legs tangled up in a gnarled root.

"We should stop by Rose's and let her know how it turned out. She's up in God's hand."

My mother stopped walking. "What? What are you talking about?"

"God's hand. It's sort of a statue in Rose's yard."

"You mean that monstrosity I saw when I first arrived here? As if the palm trees and neon weren't enough. The taxi driver had to drive me all over the place. Lord knows I was looking for a nice trailer, Charlotte, not that bilious thing you call a home. We drove six times around the park, and each time I swear that hand grew bigger and bigger."

"Mother, didn't we just have a nice moment? Didn't you just hug me and say you remember the day I was born?"

My mother took a couple of steps. "I just didn't know I had given birth to a child with no sense. I'll tell you that much."

We got to Rose's house, and, sure enough, she and Ginger were still up in the hand. Rose was standing like she was trying to see the ball field through the trees.

"Rose," I called. "It's all over."

"Thank you, Almighty God," Rose said. "For this safe delivery."

Ginger started down the ladder. "Thank you, Jesus," she said three times while she made her way to the ground. Then she stood next to my mother and said, "Bet that was the first time you saw a baby born on a ball field."

Mother shook her head. "This is also the first time I seen a midg—er, little person climb out of the hand of God."

"Mother, don't be rude."

"It's true," she said.

Rose came down. "So was it a boy or girl? How's Fleur de Lee?"

"She's fine. Rube took her to the hospital. She had a girl."

"I knew it," Rose said. "Asa owes me ten bucks."

"They named her Angel because she was born on Angel Field," I said. "Angel Fleur de Lee."

"That is so sweet," Rose said. "Where are they now?"

"The Lundys took her to the hospital. Marlabeth is going also."

Rose smiled at my mother. "Ever think that would happen on vacation?"

Mother didn't say anything. She was still staring at the hand.

"Mother," I said. "It's just a statue."

"But why a giant hand?" Mother asked.

Rose jumped on the opportunity to explain. "Scripture says that God holds us all in the palm of his hand. This just makes it more real to me, to us."

"Wouldn't it be simpler to just go to church?"

Rose laughed. "It is church, Lillian. Come by one day and you can sit up there. I'll paint your name as soon as I can."

"Paint my name? What are you talking about?"

"Rose painted everyone's name on the hand, well, everyone in Paradise," Ginger said.

"It's my way of lifting you all to God and asking his blessing on you."

Lillian touched the monument. "Strange. Very strange."

"Did we have to forfeit the game?" Ginger asked. "They were sure better than us."

"Cash said we might be able to pick it up tomorrow," I said."I was going to concede, but the others wouldn't let me. So the umpire is treating it like a rain delay."

Ginger kicked at the dirt under the hand. "Ah, we should just forfeit. Ain't no way in heaven or earth we'd win."

"Let's wait until tomorrow," I said. "The others are pretty determined now, especially after Cash lied to us and all."

"Lied to you," Mother said.

"He told me his team stunk worse than rotten potatoes, Mother. And then they show up and—well, you saw them."

"That rat. You play your game, Charlotte. You knock their socks off."

"That's the spirit, Lillian," Rose said.

W
e said good-night to Rose and Ginger and headed up Mango Street. It was now dark, and the few streetlights in Paradise had come on, providing just a few circles of light as we made our way home.

"I'll bet Lucky will be glad to see us," I said. "It's been a long night."

"Now, now, Charlotte. I let him out just a few minutes before I came to see you at the ball game. Strangest thing. He was pawing at the door, and I kept telling him to go on out, that I didn't want to get up from my comfortable seat. But he wouldn't go through that teeny-weenie door; how he even fits through there is beyond me."

"He hasn't wanted to use his doggie door lately. Something spooked him the other day."

"Made me mad, he did. I had to get up and open the door. That was when I saw that Hazel Crenshaw for the first time. She waved me over, and I went and we talked. She's an odd duck."

"She is. But I like her."

"I didn't say I didn't like her. We did come to your game together."

I folded my arms across my chest and rubbed my arms."Getting chilly. The breeze has picked up. Feels like a storm might be coming over the mountains."

"I did hear something on the radio about some weather moving in."

"What would you like for supper? It's a little late, but I can whip up something."

"How about an omelet?"

"With some cheese? I think I have a few different types of cheese in the fridge."

"Two," Mother said. "I saw cheddar, Swiss, and I tossed the Muenster in the trash. It was rotting, Charlotte."

"Cheese is supposed to rot, sort of, isn't it?"

"Not like that."

My mother sat at the table while I whisked eggs. She picked at what was left of a cherry crumb pie. "You do make good pie, Charlotte. I think you get that from your grandmother. She was a chef, you know, Madame Mimieux at the famed Le Bouboule."

"I know. You've told me about a million times."

I poured the beaten eggs into the hot pan.

"Yes. In Paris, no less. Of course, that's where my family was from."

"I know. I'd like to visit some day."

"Mm." I watched her pick more crust and then plop a cherry in her mouth. "Why you didn't go to cooking school when I told you to go is beyond me. You'd be . . . be . . . "

"What, Mother?"

"Happy?" She raised her eyebrows at me like she had just said the most profound statement ever uttered by a human being.

I finished up the two-cheese omelet and slid it on a plate."Toast?"

"No. Just some apple juice if you have it."

We ate silently for a few minutes until I heard Lucky come in through his doggie door. He ran into the kitchen and slid on the linoleum. "He comes in through the doggie door, but not out."

"Strange pooch," Mother said.

After eating our omelet, we settled in front of the TV with cups of tea and Lorna Doone cookies.

"So, Mother, your first day in Paradise was pretty exciting."

"It was that, Charlotte." She munched a cookie. "What's that over there? Something of Herman's? Some Fuller Brush doodad?"

"What?"

"That trophy-looking thing."

I laughed. "No, that's mine. You remember back when I played with the Canaries?"

"Oh, I do remember. You were so proud of that trophy."

"I was, Mother. And I think you were a little proud too."

She sipped tea and watched a few seconds of TV. "How come I never saw it at your other house, the real house made from bricks?"

I swallowed a cookie and nearly choked. "Because Herman thought it was too large to be displayed. He made me keep it in the basement."

"I don't know if you ever knew this or not, Charlotte, but I never had much regard for Herman Figg."

"No?" I said, hoping she'd catch the sarcasm in my voice.

"It's true. I wanted you to have a career and marry someone more like your father, God rest his soul." She clutched her chest.

"I was happy, Mother."

She glared at me. "Were you? Really?"

I finished my tea and turned off the television. "I think we should go to bed."

We took turns in the bathroom and then met in the hallway.

"Goodnight, Mom." I kissed her cheek.

She patted Lucky and then kissed me. "Sleep tight, dear."

The next morning I woke to the smell of coffee brewing and the sound of birds chirping outside.

"Good morning, Mother," I said, walking into the kitchen."Coffee smells good."

"It's from Africa," she said. "I brought you a whole pound. I still have connections with buyers all over the world and they send me stuff to try out sometimes and I rather like—"

"Mother, you're blathering. Too early for blather."

"I'm sorry, dear. I was just making conversation."

I sipped the brew. "It is good. Nutty."

"Just like me, I suppose."

"Mother, I didn't say that."

She joined me at the table. "I think you're mad at me because of what I said last night about Herman."

"What? That you didn't like him? I knew that. You and Daddy never liked him."

She sliced into the apple pie. "I have to say it again, Charlotte. Why didn't you ever open a shop?"

I shook my head. "I wanted to, but—"

"But Herman," Mother said. "Charlotte, now don't take this the wrong way, but that man never let you be who you were supposed to be."

I nodded. "Rose said I missed out on my God-intended self."

"Not too late."

I felt tears well up. "Mother, it's too early to cry."

"Tell me what happened, Charlotte. Tell Mother what that mean old Herman did to you."

And I did. We sat in the kitchen for over an hour, and I told her all about him.

"He wasn't evil, not like some men," I said in the end, meaning Fergus Wrinkel. "He just liked to be in control."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Mother asked. "I would have let you come home. You could have come to Florida with me. I mean, I suspected it all along, but you needed to make that choice. I could have talked and talked until I was blue in the face, but you had to be the one. Why did you stay?"

"I don't know. Men like Herman have a way of making you stay." I thought of Suzy.

"He brainwashed you."

"Kind of."

"I just don't get it. It's not like you had children to consider. Matter of fact, Herman is probably the reason you lost—"

"Mother, stop."

"It could be true. They're doing all kinds of studies, and they say stress early in a pregnancy has been known to cause mis—"

I stopped her again. "God just saw fit to take the baby away from me."

"And me," Mother said. "When that woman was having her baby out there on the baseball field, I couldn't help but feel sort of homesick for never holding my own grandchild."

I reached across the table and held her hand. "I know, Mother. I felt it too. But Herman never wanted to try again after that."

My mother used a paper napkin to wipe tears from her cheeks.

I looked at the clock. "Look at that, Mother, it's nearly eleven o'clock and we're not even dressed."

"I do need to use the bathroom," she said. "That African coffee irritates my bladder, I think."

"Go on. Go to the bathroom. I'm expecting Cash to call about the game today."

I cleared the table and washed the dishes and gave Lucky a bowl of Alpo. He had been listening to the whole Herman story. He whimpered a couple of times through it, almost like he knew somehow, almost like he knew he was meant to be with me now, to help get me through.

"It's okay, boy," I said. "Herman can't hurt me anymore."

Mother came out of the bedroom dressed and ready for the day. She wore blue jeans and a Penn State sweatshirt.

"Mother, you look so . . . so . . . "

"Trailer-ish?"

"No, relaxed."

The telephone rang. "I bet that's Cash."

Mother raised her eyebrows. "He has such nice eyes."

"Hello," I said.

It was him.

"I got it," I said. "Seven o'clock next Thursday. At Angel Field. We'll be ready."

Mother gave me the thumbs-up sign. I wasn't altogether certain what she meant by it.

"Fleur de Lee is fine," I said into the phone. "Thank you for asking."

I finished my conversation with Cash and then headed for the bedroom. "I'll go get changed, and then I need to go to the grocery store. I guess we can spend the day together, we aren't playing until next Thursday now."

"That's over a week away," Mother said.

"Cash said it couldn't be helped. We can't get an umpire until then because of other games being played. He was able to get the league to switch some of our games around so we can finish the Thunder game."

My mother chuckled into her hand. "I'm sorry, Charlotte, but it seems like so much fuss for a silly game. You'd think you were invading Normandy with all this planning."

"I need to get dressed," I said.

"You go ahead, and I think I will go shopping with you. I need a few things myself."

After I dressed, I told Mother I would need to let the team know not to come to the field.

"And how do you do that? Jungle drums?"

"No, not usually. I go door-to-door, but maybe I'll make calls. Better yet. I'll call the team captain and she can handle it."

"Good girl," Mother said. "Delegate."

"I'll just call Frankie, and then we can be on our way."

I pulled open the car door just in time to see Suzy and Fergus Wrinkel coming out of Hazel's door.

"Look at that," I said. "He's got Suzy right by his side. Probably won't let her leave his sight."

My mother looked in the direction I was looking. "What are you talking about? And why is she in a cast?"

"That's Fergus Wrinkel. He's been— Get in the car. I'll tell you on the way."

She climbed slowly into the passenger seat. "Now, you're certain you can drive this yacht, Charlotte? I'm old, but my life is still precious."

"Yes, Mother. I've become a good driver."

"Just go slow, okay? Nice and slow."

I pulled away from the curb and said, "Fergus Wrinkel hits his wife. Gives her black eyes. Even broke her wrist. That's why she's in the cast, and he . . ." I stopped talking and noticed my left knee was shaking.

"Are you certain, Charlotte?"

"I am, Mom. Saw the bruises myself, and then just a few days ago Suzy finally admitted it to me."

It wasn't until I had pulled onto the main road to Shoops that my mother spoke again. "What is it with you and these kind of men? It's wherever you go."

"I take out ads in newspapers, Mother. Wanted: Men who hit their wives."

"Charlotte, that's terrible. But you have to admit it's weird."

I looked at her for a long second and nearly rammed into the car ahead of me. I slammed on the brakes.

"Charlotte," Mother hollered. "Take me home. You are not a fit driver."

"Too late, the shopping center is just down the road."

"Slow down. Charlotte, slow down."

The Piggly Wiggly was crowded for a Wednesday morning, but Lillian and I managed to get through it quickly. I purchased everything I needed to make pies. "I make them for Suzy," I told Mother. "Then she tells Fergus she made them."

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"Just trying to help."

My mother bought shampoo and soap because apparently the brand I used made her skin itch and her scalp tingle.

We loaded the car and headed out of the parking lot. "What's this town called?" Lillian asked.

"Shoops. It's where just about every man in Paradise works."

"Really?"

"Down at the Elastic Factory. Hazel Crenshaw owns the factory."

"She does, does she? Then why is she living in a trailer park?"

"She likes it, but she also owns a huge estate around here somewhere. Place called Willow Way. But here's what's really funny. Cash Vangarten works for her also. He's her general manager."

"No, really?"

"And she won't sponsor his team. So he's a little miffed that she is sponsoring the Angels."

"Peyton Place," Mother said shaking her head. "Paradise is its own little soap opera."

"I guess it is. We have it all. Secrets, deception, softball."