Markers (Joshua Stokes Mysteries Book 3) (17 page)

“You’re a dear for putting up with my crazy friend and me. I do wish you would stay - we could have a blast tonight. Alice is a real party animal,” Carolyn said, slipping a dress up over her hips and putting her arms through the sleeveless shoulder straps.

I bet she is, thought Joshua.

“Could you be a dear and zip me up,” she said walking over to the side of the bed and turning her back to him. He obliged, letting his hands follow the shape of her hips as he smoothed her dress over them.

“I’ll think about it,” Joshua said, actually considering it.

“If you do decide to leave, please lock the front door behind you. If not, I’ll see you when I return,” Carolyn pressed her body against him and kissed him passionately. She stared into his eyes when she released his lips, but did not look back after she turned to go. She simply strode out the bedroom door calling to Alice that she was ready to leave.

Joshua slipped on his jeans, then walked barefoot onto the balcony that overlooked the backyard and Mobile Bay. Across the bay, he saw the city come to life as the streetlights began to come on. He lit a cigarette and sat down in one of the Adirondack chairs that faced the bay. He propped his feet on the railing and watched the sun nestle the top of the buildings on the horizon. It was a beautiful sight… What was that Carolyn had said as he was waking - something about twilight segues, soft obsidian nights, and flickering fireflies? Yes, that was it, “Twilight segues into soft obsidian night as fireflies flicker, lighting the shadowy crevices of days fading light before total darkness descends gently over the land… yes, day after day, I, a
mere mortal
, am witness to this wondrous event.” Quite fitting, thought Joshua, as he sat watching the sun setting to the west and night closing in around him. Indeed, there were fireflies in the backyard. They flickered every now and then lighting the darkness around them as they made their way down to the bay below. Joshua breathed deeply the salt briny air and inhaled the warm scent of the ginger lily’s that drifted up from below. He closed his eyes and listened as daylight faded and the night came to life; the extreme heat of late causing the clacks, buzzes, and hums of locusts to overpower the other sounds. Not much different from his own back porch, thought Joshua as he sat there listening while darkness fell peacefully around him.

Twenty-Eight

Coincidences

Joshua lit another cigarette and contemplated his next move. His afternoon delight had cost him his planned visit to Vivian Bradley. He still wanted to talk with her, but it was too late to go to Vivian’s - he was sure of that. At her age, she probably went to bed with the chickens. He knew he should check in at the station; one call to Ida Mae and she could give him the gist of what was going on, but he was sure she had already left for the day-he never had gotten to know the dispatcher that worked the nightshift. He decided to check his pager to see if anyone had tried to contact him, but when he looked on the floor where he dropped his clothing earlier, he did not see it. He wondered if he had left it in his patrol car... Maybe it was stuck in the seat, or maybe he left it at home that morning. Although he felt it was nothing more than a tether that tied him to the sheriff’s office, he always tried to remember to take it with him. Joshua tried to remember the last time he had actually held his pager in his hand; he couldn’t. Lord only knows where it’s at, he thought to himself.

He decided to shower before Carolyn returned. While in the shower, he decided to leave. He had had enough togetherness for one day. He jotted a quick note on a pad he found by the phone saying that duty called and placed it on the nightstand. He felt a little bad for lying, but that did not stop him from leaving.

As he drove onto the Causeway, he felt a very strong urge to go to Vivian’s house. He decided to go, if for no other reason than just to see if by chance she was up. From some of the memories he had of him and his mother’s visits there, some of them were at night. When he emerged from the Bankhead Tunnel, he hung a left, circled the Courthouse, and then turned right onto South Royal Street. He felt his anticipation build as he neared Vivian’s small Victorian manor house. He did not know why or how, but knew that somehow, she knew he was coming. Was it Georgia, he wondered. She had the same powers her grandmother, Mattie LaRue had. Could
she
see him coming? As he pulled up in front of the house, he saw that most of the first floor was lit up. “Good, they must be up,” he mumbled as he opened the door to get out of his cruiser. Just as he stepped on the front porch, the porch light came on and the front door opened.

“Good, you is heah. I was calling fo youse to come,” Georgia said, and then stepped aside for him to enter. “Miz Vivian, she ain’t doing good at all, and she been a calling yo name. They is sumthin she needs to tell you afore she dies.”

Joshua did not believe in coincidences and he did not think twice about walking straight in while asking which direction to go as he did so. Georgia led him down a hallway while explaining that since getting older, Vivian had moved to a downstairs bedroom to avoid climbing stairs several time a day.

“She jest ain’t able ta climb da stairs anymo, Mister Stokes-”

“Just call me Joshua, or Sheriff,” he said quickly. “Mr. Stokes was my granddaddy.”

“Yes, sir, Mis-Sherf - she not gone be long fer dis here world,” Georgia said as she opened a door and stood aside.

Vivian Bradley lay in a bed, surrounded by pillows, a monitor of some sort attached to her. She looked small and frail. Joshua pulled a chair up to her bed, sat down, then reached and took her small hand in his. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him. He saw the same look of surprise in her eyes that he had seen the first time he had come to visit and she had dropped the teacup she was holding.

“Have you come for me too?” she asked, weakly reaching her other hand toward him. Taken aback, Joshua wondered why she thought he had come to get her (too). Whom had he gotten the last time?

Twenty-Nine

Mattie LaRue

“If I close my eyes… will you still be here, or are you a dream?”

“I’m not a dream, Vivian; I’m really here,” he replied. She reached for his face and Joshua leaned forward so that she could touch him.

“You
are
real - you’ve come for me, haven’t you?” Joshua turned to look for Georgia hoping she could explain why Vivian was reacting toward him the way she was, but she was not there. He turned his eyes back to Vivian and she smiled at him.

“I knew you’d return for me. I tried, I really tried to stay strong and wait for you.” Just then, Joshua heard something behind him. He turned and saw Georgia returning. She had a tray with a teapot and cups that she sat on the dresser.

“We must drink da tea,” she said, as she poured a cup. She dropped in two lumps of sugar, stirred, and then added a dollop of cream. She then told Joshua to fix him a cup. When he told her that he did not care for any, she stared him down. “You has too!” she said gruffly. “That is da only way I know dis gonna work!”

“Okay, okay,” he replied, getting to his feet and pouring a cup of tea. While he was doing that, Georgia held Vivian’s head and got her to drink some of the tea. She then fixed her own cup and drank it all down.

“It gonna work, Miz Vivian,” she assured, as she rubbed her palm over Vivian’s brow. “Youse a go ta Glory wit out takin’ all dat wid ya,” Georgia assured her.

Joshua took his straight up, no sugar or cream for him; he just wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible.

“Leave jess a dab so’s we can check it later.”

He chugalugged it down in two swallows. When he took the cup away from his mouth, he saw the bits and pieces of tealeaves that stayed in the bottom of his cup. When he looked at Vivian, she appeared to be sleeping with her eyes open. It was unnerving.

“Why does she keep asking if I’ve come for her?”

“She thanks you is Miz Anna’s daddy; da one dat kilt her mama. She has dreams bout him since she a young girl. She helped yo mama in dat po’house - she say his ghost come dare all da time visitin’ Miz Anna - she seen him too! She says youse looks like him, dat why she drops her teacup and broke it, dat day youse come da first time.”

Joshua did not know what to say about that; he’d never even saw a picture of his maternal grandfather, but he had saw his grandfather’s sister, Margie Redfeather - and, he had to admit that he resembled her - his dark hair and skin tone - his eyes must’ve been a combination of both sides of his family…

“Why the tea?” he asked, “What is it going to prove?”

“Youse a see, now try and get Miz Vivian ta drank da rest of hern; I be right back,” she said, as she turned and left the room.

Joshua had never spoon-fed anyone before, but assumed that was what Georgia wanted him to do when she handed him the cup of tea and a spoon. He dipped a spoon of tea and put it to Vivian’s lips.

“You have to drink your tea,” he said softly as he dumped the contents through her parted lips. She turned her eyes toward him. There was no fear in her eyes, only questions.

“Is it time?”

“No, not yet,” he said softly “You have to finish your tea first.”

She had drunk nearly all of it when the door opened. He glanced over his shoulder and almost dropped the teacup. It took him a moment to realize that it was Georgia standing there and not the ghost of Mattie LaRue. Vivian saw her too and immediately began crying. Soft tears trailed down her cheek as she smiled at Georgia. Georgia walked slowly, almost crippled looking as she moved toward the bed.

“My Mattie LaRue, you’ve returned to me,” said Vivian, in an almost imperceptible tiny voice.

“Yes’em it be me,” Georgia said sprightly. “I come ta read da leaves. Youse just lies still, Mama Rue gone fix you right up; see what goin’ on. You is Mama Rue’s baby girl.” Vivian appeared to be in awe of “Mattie LaRue” as she hobbled around collecting cups.

“Dis here be Miss Annaleigh’s baby boy,” she said matter-of-factly. “He comes ta see what youse wanted ta tell ‘em. C’mon baby girl, youse member don’t cha.” Georgia urged. Vivian seemed befuddled. Joshua hated seeing her like that when just a few weeks earlier she had seemed so healthy and full of life. His morbid curiosity kept him quiet as he watched the scene play out.

“Anna? Where is Anna?”

“She here, baby girl; she in spirit. She right beside you; doan youse see ‘er?” Georgia asked, as she swirled each of the cups and sat them in order.

“Oh, Anna! There you are,” Vivian mumbled, looking to her right. Joshua could not help himself; he had to look. He thought he saw a faint apparition hovering near the bed. From what he could make out, it appeared to be a woman. Joshua had seen ghosts most of his life, but this apparition did not resonate any particular feelings of familiarity. However, as he watched Vivian’s interaction with the spirit, he wondered if it was some form of mass hallucination taking place between the three of them.

“Shhh,” Georgia/Mattie said, placing a finger on her lips after she sat the tray with the teacups on the foot of the bed in front of her. “Mattie Rue is heah; you both has ta be quiet and listen to Mama Rue if you wants yer fochuns read.” Georgia spoke barely above a whisper and her voice sounded nothing like her normal tone of voice. Vivian turned to look at him; she smiled and then turned to the apparition and smiled.

“I’m gone read yo cup firse, baby girl.” Vivian looked straight at Georgia as Georgia pretended to be Mattie LaRue and read her teacup. “Youse has done good, baby girl, and you has prepared a place already, but youse can’t leave wid out telling Anna’s baby boy what you wanted ta tell ‘em.” Vivian nodded her head and turned toward Joshua. He watched her face intently waiting on her to speak. Her eyes teared up and her lips trembled. She turned to the apparition and stared a moment, then she faced Joshua again before she spoke.

“Anna killed her father,” Vivian said, and then covered her mouth with her hand and began crying. Joshua felt disappointed. If he had not already found out it would have been new information, but Margie Redfeather had already told him that. Vivian’s sobs became lighter, but she would not look back into his eyes.

“Dry yo tears, baby girl! You has ta finish, you has too, youse ain’t a gone had another chance,” Mattie/Georgia spoke a little harsher.

Vivian mumbled incoherently. Joshua could not understand what she was saying; he reached and took her hand in his.

“Please tell me, Vivian. I promise I won’t be disappointed in you or Annaleigh.” He did not know why he said it, but it seemed to calm her.

“Anna’s father came to visit her at the orphanage - the nuns thought she was crazy and had her sent away for several months. I tried to tell them that I saw him too, but they threatened to send me away too, if I continued to say I saw him there. I was weak, Joshua” she spoke clear and concise. “I recanted my story and after that, even though Anna and I remained friends, I always pretended that I did not see her father’s ghost even though I did see him. I saw him leaning over her bed night after night whispering into her ear.” Vivian turned toward the apparition and reached outward. ”Please forgive me Anna!” she begged. “You were not crazy - every time you thought he was there-he was there; I saw him too!”

“Miz Anna says she fogives you; He fogives you too, don’t cha mista police man.”

“Yes, of course I do,” Joshua said, as he patted Vivian’s hand. Vivian visibly relaxed and closed her eyes. After a moment, her hand went limp in his. She lay with eyes closed, her breaths shallow and slightly raspy.

“Is she going to be alright?” he asked Georgia, who still stood at the foot of the bed.

“She gone
mista police man
; yo mama done collected her soul while she was heah.”

“What the fuck you mean my mama collected her soul?” Joshua spurted, suddenly on the defensive. “How can you say that - she’s still breathing - she
is
alive,” he waved a hand toward Vivian.

“Yo mama done it so she won’t suffa, that why!” Georgia gave him a look that said she knew what she was talking about and dared him to question her.

“When you die, folks dat done gone afo you, comes an wait youse ta pass. Dey waits until youse is on de edge of death and den dey snatch yo soul up outta yo body so’s it don’t suffa! Accordin’ ta yo tealeaves, youse is broken inta many pieces-youse is part yo mama, part yo daddy, part her daddy, and part his daddy - deys a pullin’ youse every which away an a pullin’ and pullin’ ta youse is gone suffa if’n dey don’t stop…” she drew herself up tall and stared him in the eye. “When you die, dey won’t be nobody there to collect youse an youse a come back - jess like old Mattie LaRue say - dey all come back - dey all comes back!” Georgia/Mattie picked up the tray and walked out the door.

Joshua turned to look at Vivian and then for some reason looked to see if the apparition was still on the other side of the bed. Vivian appeared to be sleeping - you would never guess that she was at deaths door, except that her breaths were shallow and labored. He finally realized that he was still holding her small age-spotted hand and looked at it closely. He wondered if that was how it would have felt to hold his mother’s hand. He patted it with his free hand and then laid it across her stomach.

“Goodbye, sweet lady,” Joshua whispered.

“She heard you,” Georgia said as she came into the room. Joshua turned to look at her and was surprised that she was once again, Georgia. “Mattie Rue gone, Miz Annaleigh gone, Miz Vivian body here, but she gone too. What old Georgia gone do now…” she said more to herself than to him. He saw Georgia’s hand raise and saw that she was handing him something. “She say she want you ta have dis. Miz Vivian ain’t got no family-she a orphan raised in da po’house.”

What Georgia handed him was the photograph album he had borrowed to make copies of several of the pictures of his mother and her brother and sister. The thought struck him that Vivian may have had other personal items or mementos of his mother.

“Do you know if Mrs. Bradley has other keepsakes of her life put up somewhere?”

“She have a old trunk dat is full of stuff upstairs in her ol’ room. She real protected of it when she younger,” Georgia chuckled. “One time, when I young and nosey, I try to sneak through it while I clean - she come unglued on me, say she tan my hide! She woulda too - yessiree, she sprightly when she younger.”

“Do you think she’d mind if I looked through it?”

“She ain’t gone mind nothing no mo,
Mista Police Man
. It upstairs, all da way back on da left, settin’ at da end of da bed. Go on and look afore dey take it all away.”

Joshua was not going to argue or wait around for Georgia to change her mind. He was not exactly sure how to take her. One minute, she was almost polite and the next, she was a total bitch. He got up and walked into the living room to the staircase leading upstairs. Once he reached the top of the stairs, he followed the hallway to the last door on the left, opened it, reached for and found the light switch, and then walked in. The old steamer trunk was indeed sitting at the foot of the bed; a beautifully decorated silk scarf topped it. He removed the scarf and then sat down on the floor in front of it.

Joshua took a deep breath and opened the trunk.

One by one, he removed the items, taking care not to harm them. He noticed there were notes pinned to some of them. Beneath a thin, plain square-patterned quilt were small delicate glasslike figurines wrapped in old yellowed newspapers. Some of which dated back to the nineteen-thirties and forties. There were tablecloths and more quilts on top that could have easily been fifty years old or older. The note pinned to those had Georgia’s name on them with an explanation that Mattie LaRue made them and others that stated Mattie LaRue’s mother made them. That meant that some of the quilts were well over a hundred years old, thought Joshua as he stacked them neatly on the floor.

A shoebox held small lapel pins, buttons, and other assorted items. One lone earring caught his attention - he pulled it from the box and held it up to the light. It was a dangling crystal prism wrapped in delicate silver thread. A memory flashed through Joshua’s mind. He saw the earring reflecting sunlight across the room… it was a multi-colored array scattered across shiny, tongue and groove wooden floors. But where?

He pocketed the earring.

A small box labeled with the directions, ‘
Give this to Joshua Stokes. I want him to place it on his mother’s grave. Annaleigh Touart bought this at a secondhand store for my sixteenth birthday, because all I talked about was that I wanted a horse. She had to work a full month to pay for it!’
Joshua opened the box. An intricately carved rocking horse embossed with the most minuscule decorations on the saddle and bridal, was wrapped in a linen cloth. He placed the carving back in the box and then set the box beside the quilts he had removed first.

Beneath the carving was a large flat box - the container was maybe six inches deep by a foot and a half wide by two feet long; it held what appeared to be a yellowed, laced wedding dress. He recognized it as the dress Vivian wore in the picture of her and her husband on their wedding day; the photo was of them standing on the steps of the courthouse. A note taped to the box said, simply ‘donate.’ Beneath the wedding dress, there were several more hand-sewn quilts with Georgia’s name attached to them; underneath those, Joshua found a leather-bound journal tied with a strip of leather. His hand stopped midway to it… Was it his mothers? If it was Vivian’s journal, should he open it? He knew if he ever picked it up that he would read it; there would be no way he could stop himself…