Nubbin but Trouble (9 page)

She answered almost immediately. “Why didn't you call me back?”

“Um, hi, rude much?” I pointed out her rudeness.

“Mercedes Mares, I told you to call me every step of the way. What is going on? Why haven't you answered your phone? It's a good thing that the motel had a website, otherwise I was going to send the cavalry looking for you. Not even Charlie would answer his phone. What did you do? Elope?” Ruby had a hot temper and wasn't afraid to use it when necessary. Thankfully, it wasn't necessary too often, but every once in a while, her Irish roots would make an appearance. When that happened, I'd learned the hard way that it was best to just endure her wrath, rather than try and deflect.

“I lost my phone.” I said meekly. “Sorry.”

“I called the motel. Didn't you get our messages?” Ruby screamed.

“Our? Who else called me?” I asked, remembering that the front desk clerk had handed me some messages when she gave me the bag.

“Well, let's see, me, Hank, Tina, and everyone you've ever met. What in the world happened to you? Did you find Nubbin? And, are you sick? You sound sick?” Ruby fired off questions quicker than I could think.

“Hold on. One thing at a time, Ruby. I told you, I lost my phone. A diner owner in Colorado gave me an old prepaid. You know, the kind that still flips? What do you call those?” I asked.

“Mercy? Why didn't you call me from that phone then?” Ruby asked, irritated by my response.

I giggled at the absurdity of it all. “Um, I lost it when I got the car stuck in a ditch.”

“You what?!?!”

I had to pull the phone away from my ear; she was screaming so loudly.

This conversation was giving me a headache. I had to put a stop to it. “I'm sick. I have a fever, chills, a runny nose and...”

“What ditch? You were in an accident?” Ruby's voice was shrill.

“Ruby, I'm alive. It's okay. They haven't found Nubbin yet. I'm not giving up though.” Remembering why I'd called her in the first place, I added, “Oh, and Charlie was nice enough to pick up some medication for me, so after I take a nice, hot bath, I'm going to get some rest and, hopefully, I'll feel much better in the morning and ready to go find my wayward friend.”

“You're sick? You know how you get when you're sick. You look like something out of a horror movie. Just how do you expect to do Nubbin any good in that condition and, more importantly, what happened to the car? Did you fall asleep when you were driving? Did someone hit you? Does Charlie know?” Ruby was full of questions.

“Yes, Charlie knows. He helped get the car out of the ditch. The roads were slick and I just kind of flew off the highway. A farmer saved me. He let us stay at his house until morning.” I started.

“You went home with a stranger? What were you thinking? What if he would have killed you?” Ruby was becoming more and more irritated with me. I wasn't exactly doing myself any favors by telling her that story, but she asked, so she'd have to deal with the consequences.

“Oh, and just so you know, Charlie is no saint. He has a girlfriend.” I said. “I saw her leaving his house this morning.”

              My theory that a good night's rest and a couple of doses of symptom relievers would cure me, failed. I woke up feeling ten times worse than I had when I'd fallen asleep. What I needed was Vitamin C by the barrel and a new life. The chances of getting either one of those things any time soon were slim to none, so I'd have to brave the elements again and hope I didn't die in the process. At this point, I'd accept being mangled by coyotes than having whatever disease, it was I'd managed to catch after just a few minutes in the snow.

“Are you hungry, buddy?” I asked, petting Barney. “What do you say we go hunt and gather for some vittles?”
What? That's a country term, isn't it?

I checked the local television stations to see what the word was on Nubbin and the rogue bandits. Of course, the first story was hog reports.
What did that even mean? What were the hogs doing to be reported on all the time?

After watching the entire broadcast, there wasn't a word about Nubbin. I tried another station, but either I missed the story or there was no new information to report.

“Great. What, did everyone just decide to forget about him? Wasn't he a long-time citizen of this community?” I spoke out loud.

I had to get out and dig for information and the only logical place to do that at this point was to head to the only diner in town. I'm sure everyone there would be so happy to see me, especially Sissy, the waitress with the table side manner of a gorilla.

It's not that Western Nebraska is a bad place. It was just that the locals didn't take too kindly to me – for a number of reasons, I suppose, but none of them, worth the time, if you asked me.

After I finished getting dressed in as many layers I could manage without toppling over, Barney and I headed out the door, making sure to bring the box of tissue with us. I was pretty confident that I'd need them among plenty of other things, like patience and a wing and a prayer, if anyone had one or two to spare.

*

Sissy rolled her eyes the moment she saw me walk in the door, yelling to the room full of customers, “See, I told you she'd show up. Nubbin is like her best friend or something.” Sneering at me like an insolent teenager, she added, “He's probably the only friend she can get.”

Well, isn't that rich? Little Miss Waitress knows how to hold a grudge. That's okay, so do I.

“How are you, smarty pants?” I asked, smiling from ear to ear.

She must not have known what the definition of smarty pants was because she didn't so much as flinch when I said it.

“Your eyes are red. Are you sick or something? You probably have that bird flu that they talk about on the news all the time. I know people where you come from have all kinds of stuff, we don't have around here.”

Sissy made a point not to get too close to me, taking a few steps back from me as she spoke, but I didn't mind. I didn't want to be too close to her either, but for entirely different reasons. She wasn't a nice girl and I wasn't feeling too motivated to be nice to her either.

I faked a cough, ignoring the fact that my throat was already sore and my head throbbed with every beat of my heart.

“Yeah, I think that's what I have – the bird flu. The experts say that it's most dangerous for people under the age of thirty, so you might not want to be in the same room as me.”
Oh, that was good!

She took another step back,  a look of horror on her face. I should have apologized and told her that I was just kidding, but that would have robbed me of having the pleasure of watching her squirm.

“Gross. What are you doing here then?” She asked.

I smiled the brightest smile I could muster and replied, “Well, I can't very well come to town and not stop and see you, can I? That would be rude.” I brushed past her on purpose, making sure to get close enough to make her cringe, but not so close that I'd actually make contact with her person. I was bad, but not that bad.

“Just go find a seat over there.” Sissy shivered as I walked past her. Little did she know, I'd perfected the art of giving people the hebegeebees in grade school, long before she was born. Yep, I was a menace back then too. I sure did miss those days.

I strolled past the tables of miserly patrons as they stared at me, assessing my every move. I guess, you could say that I'm somewhat of a pariah in these parts. My stay here must have rubbed a lot of people the wrong way, but no matter what any of them thought, I was right to have done what I did, but again, that's a story for another day.

“Aren't you that nurse?” I heard a gentleman say behind me as I walked past his table.

I turned to face him. He and his cohorts gasped.
Did I look that bad?
“Yes, sir. I'm a nurse. Did you need some help?” I asked him, ignoring the concerned looks on the faces of those seated with him.

“No, but I think you might want to see a doctor. We had a nasty flu going around here before Old Man Winter decided to show up on us again. Looks like you're in the full swing of it now.” He said.

“Thanks. I'll take that into consideration.” I said, turning back to find a table far enough away from the other patrons, but close enough to hear if any of them were discussing Nubbin or the bank robbers.

He asked another question. “What brings you back to town? If it's Scheckpepper, good luck with that. I really don't think the old coot wants to be found. If you ask me, I think he did the right thing. I know, I wouldn't want to be holed up in that awful place, living among a bunch of sick people.”

I returned to his table to listen to him. By the way he was speaking, I believed that he knew Nubbin well. His words were similar to words I'd heard Nubbin say many a time before. “Are you and Nubbin friends?” I asked.

The men laughed. Apparently, they thought that was a funny question, but I asked it in all sincerity.

After the laughter died down and my stomach began to growl, I asked again. “Do you know Nubbin well?”

The men at the table erupted in laughter again. This was going to take a while. Instead of continuing on to a table in the far corner, under a small television set, I took a seat at the table next to theirs.

“Did I say something funny?” I asked, trying not to sound wounded by their continued laughter.

The man who'd asked if I was a nurse pulled himself together. “We're sorry. We don't mean to laugh, but we just won a bet.”

I figured he'd explain further, so I waited patiently, taking a moment to settle into my seat and get familiar with the menu, however small that it was.

Eventually, after a moment of joking and laughing, he filled me in on the joke and the bet.

He said, “I've known Nubbin longer than I've known my wife.” I nodded. “My name is Bob, by the way. Bob Schmidt. I grew up just down the road from the Schmeckpepper farm. Those people are a whole other breed, Nubbin especially. He never let anyone tell him what to do and never once followed the rules. Not that the rest of us were rule followers all the time, but we knew enough not to get ourselves into trouble.”

He laughed again, his round face turning a beet red as he reminisced. “When Nubbin moved in that place, he threw such a fit. We all heard about it, so we got a little bet going with some other old timers on when exactly he'd pack his bags and walk right on out of there, never to be found again. It took some time, but looks like he finally did it.”

I didn't know what to say. Looking at this big, burly man with a face as round as a saucer, all I could think about was how odd it was that people had bet on how long Nubbin would last in the nursing home. None of them behaved as if they were too concerned about him now.

“You alright there, nurse?” Bob asked.

I nodded, looking right at him. “I'm fine. Do you all happen to have any idea where Nubbin would have taken off too? Do you have a bet for that?”

Bob swallowed hard, recognizing that their humor was lost on me. “Did you come here to find him?”

I nodded again, moving my arms off the table to allow Sissy to pour a cup of coffee for me. “I'm going to try.”

Bob scooted his chair closer to mine. “Nubbin's a smart man. They'll find him. If I was him, I would have taken the first bus out of here and gone to Florida. What's your name again, ma'am?”

I assumed he knew my name because he knew that I was a nurse. I said, “I'm Mercy.”

He chuckled. “That's right, you're Mercedes Benz, aren't you?”

I gasped. No one called me that besides Nubbin.

“Why did you call me that?” I asked. “Did Nubbin tell you about me?”

He shook his head. “No, I just figured that Mercy was short for Mercedes. Maybe I heard it when you were here last. It just sounded like a good thing to say to lighten the mood. You were looking a little lost there. I apologize.”

I shook my head. “No need to apologize. It just reminded me of someone.”

He slid his chair back to his table to join the others. “Can I ask, how do you intend to find Nubbin? I think Sheriff Wagner has tried everything he could think of already. I don't know if you heard this or not, but we had a group of bandits here just the other day and some people speculate that they took Nubbin with them. The only question is, why?”

“Is there any proof that he's with the bank robbers? If he's with them, are the FBI involved? Why aren't they talking about him on the news?” This news added a whole new layer to this already convoluted story.

Sissy chimed in. “Yeah, I heard that he joined them and is out robbing places with them now. My uncle said that he wouldn't put it past him, because once a thief, always a thief.”

Bob rolled his eyes. “Now, don't believe everything you hear, Sissy. This is Nubbin's friend. I don't think she wants to hear any of that right now.”

Sissy shrugged. “It's the truth, though. I never heard anything good about that man. Never.” She walked back behind the front counter to speak with another customer.

Bob cleared his throat. “Don't pay attention to any of that nonsense. What Nubbin did is old news. It doesn't matter now.”

I'd never heard anything about Nubbin having a dark past. I guess, I never asked, but at the same time, no one had ever mentioned anything about him having anything troubling in his past.

Another man at the table stood up and offered his hand. “We didn't mean to upset you. Everyone has an opinion about everyone and everything around here. I'm Abe, and this is my band of misfits.” He gestured to the others seated around the table.

“Hi, Abe. I don't mean to be rude, but you might not want to shake my hand.” I stopped talking as Sissy walked in between the tables, finally ready to take my order.

“Why, do I have cooties?” Abe joked.

“No, she does.” Sissy groaned. “She has the bird flu.”

They say, there's one born every minute. Sissy's existence proved that.

The men laughed again. This time at Sissy's expense. While they laughed and joked a bit, I thought about what they'd said.
If Nubbin was with the bank robbers, what did they plan to do with him? Would they bring him harm? Why would they kidnap an elderly man? That didn't make sense.

Sissy finally took my order.

The elderly men continued talking to each other, speculating about where Nubbin could have gone. They spoke about him like he was just out having a good time. I don't know if it was their chosen coping mechanism or they honestly believed that he had some elaborate plan in mind.

I kept quiet as I listened to what they said, hoping they'd say something that would help me find Nubbin, but most of what they said was so outrageous, I didn't think it had any merit.

“I'm sure he'll be fine, Mercy. Now, don't you worry. What you need to focus on is taking care of yourself, so that flu doesn't turn into pneumonia.” Bob winked at me with his almond shaped blue eyes.