Charlotte Figg Takes Over Paradise Page 7

  "One night he got sloppy," Rose continued. "Left a cigarette lighter where I could get it while he slept off a filthy drunk. I burned through the ropes, sprinkled the mattress with the last of his whiskey and set it on fire. The flames shot up quickly in a great rushing neon wind of heat and flames, orange and red and purple, even green and yellow. I screamed and panicked, knocking flames off my arms, rolling on the floor until I finally tumbled down the steps and outside. By then my arms had been burned so badly I . . . "

  "The tattoos," I said.

  "Yes." Rose reached across the table and took my hand in hers. "The tattoos. They came years later, but yes, the tattoos."

  I smiled into her deep, dark eyes and held her there for a second. I could not even begin to imagine the horror she must have faced. It brought tears to my eyes and I swiped them away, yet Rose didn't turn her eyes from mine. And in those few seconds she communicated more about what she had gone through than words could ever do justice. The experience had transformed her, deepened her, left her with physical scars, yet more whole than I ever dared imagine for myself.

  "I have an idea," she said. "Let's go sit in the giant hand."

  Now, you might think that sitting in a giant hand would feel silly. It did. At least for a few minutes, until I got my bearings. I couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of what I was doing, having never ever sat in a giant hand before. Rose was kind and let me get it out of my system. Then she turned her own palms up, lifted them toward the now overcast sky and prayed. I listened as she trailed on about being thankful first, guilty second, and then asking for success for me and the newly formed softball team.

  "Thank you, Rose," I said. "But do you think God really cares about a softball team?" I thought back to the many serious prayers I said so long ago, asking, begging God to help me get pregnant after losing my first and only baby. Seemed to me that giving life was slightly more in the world's interest than a softball team. But what did I know?

  "Bible says that God has his eye on every sparrow. Not one falls without his knowledge. That every hair on your head is counted, that he calls each star by name. Seems to me a God that detail-minded would also care about the Paradise softball team."

  "He named the stars? All of them?" Of course I looked up and saw none, what with it being cloudy and daytime and all. Yet I looked heavenward—truly heavenward—for the first time in many, many years.

  We sat a while longer and Rose pointed out some of the names, including Suzy Wrinkel, who occupied one of the folds on the index finger.

  "A Wrinkel in a wrinkle." I smiled. Payback for the previous pun fest.

  Rose nodded and I assumed I wasn't the first to think of it.

  Ginger Rodgers was on the thumb right next to Marlabeth Pilkey.

  "Tell me about Ginger," I said.

  "What's to tell? She was born that way. God made her little is all."

  "I know but why is she here in Paradise?"

  "Where else? What better place for her? Here she's accepted just as she is. She sews quilts and does amazing needle art stuff she sells at flea markets. Loads her car up twice every spring and makes enough to live on for the year."

  "Good deal," I said.

  "She's happy, Charlotte."

  That was when Asa strolled by. "I've been looking for you, Charlotte."

  "Me? How come?"

  "You coming down or should I come up?"

  Rose and I exchanged looks. "You have pie at your place?" she asked.

  "Cherry."

  "We'll come down," Rose called. "Charlotte has pie at her place."

  We sauntered over to my house like three best friends. I couldn't remember the last time I had found myself in such good company. The thought occurred to me to say something about the odd bit of joy that crept into my heart, but I winced it away on account of it might have come out sounding silly.

  Lucky squeezed by me and into the trailer. For some reason that silly pooch always wanted to be the first one inside.

  Asa helped himself to a ginger ale, while Rose started coffee.

  "I think I found you a couple more players," Asa said.

  "Really. Who?"

  "The Frost sisters."

  Rose put her hand on Asa's shoulders. "Really? The Frost sisters? Did you speak with them?"

  "Sure did," Asa said. "They say they never got a flyer but would be happy to come out and play." Then he smiled and said, "Well, okay. I had to do some arm-twisting and they agreed to give it a try, but if they don't like it they're going to quit."

  I sat next to Rose at the kitchen table. I sank into the thick polka dot cushions I had tied on to the chair. "Frost sisters? You mean the women who own the trailer I thought I was buying?"

  "That's right," Asa said. "Edwina and Thomasina. They live on the other side of the woods. Lived there their whole lives. Never married. I'd say they're in their late thirties, healthy as oxen and just as strong. They own about forty acres out there. Fergus had been trying to get his grubby paws on that land—"

  "But they won't sell," Rose said.

  "Sisters, huh. Wonder if they'd be good at left and right field. Bookends."

  Rose laughed. "I can't wait to see the whole team assembled in one place."

  "Speaking of which," Asa said. "Where exactly do you think you'll practice? Fergus will never go for it anywhere in the park. And there really isn't much room."

  "That is a pickle," Rose said. "Here we were so excited about the team we didn't even think about having a place to practice and play games." She paused and sipped coffee. "God will provide."

  Asa snapped his fingers. "I wonder. I just wonder."

  "What?" I said. "You have an idea?"

  "Not sure. I'll let you know." He swigged the last of his ginger ale and scooted out the door. "I'll let you know," he called as the door slammed behind him and Lucky startled from a deep nap.

  "Now where do you suppose he's off to?" I asked.

  Rose shook her head. "Don't know, but he's a scrounger from way back. He might just have something up his sleeve."

  My telephone rang.

  "Hello?"

  Nothing. Just a small breath on the other end.

  "Don't tell me—people still making obscene phone calls?" I was just about to hang up when I heard a quiet female voice say, "Can you meet me at six behind my trailer?"

  "Suzy? Is this Suzy?"

  But she hung up without letting me know for certain.

  "Really?" Rose said. Her voice rose an octave. "Was that Suzy?"

  "I'm not sure. I think it was her. She said to meet her out back of her trailer at six o'clock this evening."

  I watched Rose's eyes grow large. "Are you going to meet her?"

  "I should. Don't you think, Rose? Don't you think I should meet her?"

  She nodded, smiled, and flicked a crumb off the table. "Yes, Charlotte. I think you should. But—"

  "But what?"

  "Bring Lucky just in case."

  "In case of what?"

  "Just in case."

  For the rest of the day I acted like a perfect nervous Nelly, alternately pacing around my trailer and baking pie. I decided to bring her an apple crumb and then changed it to a cherry and then decided to bring both, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to carry two pies to her trailer. After all, I wasn't even certain it was Suzy who called, and while arriving with one pie for the wrong person was embarrassing, arriving with two pies was downright silly.

  At a quarter past six Lucky and I started down the street with the apple crumb covered with Saran Wrap. "I hope she likes apple crumb, Lucky. Maybe I should have brought the cherry also, just in case she likes cherries more."

  Lucky barked and then moved in stride next to me. He looked proud and held his funny little head high, and if I didn't know better, I'd say he smiled.

  "I hope it was Suzy on the phone," I said. "I mean, I don't know for certain. I'm just guessing it was Suzy."

  We passed trailers and cars and I didn't see a soul. Not a single soul
that evening. Cooking odors wafted around us, a mixture of frying onions and bacon.

  I moved closer to the Wrinkel trailer and slowed my pace. I checked for the pickup truck and didn't see it and considered that a good sign.

  "She said to meet her behind the trailer," I whispered.

  Lucky scooted away from me and went near the trailer. He puffed around in some scraggly grass. He shot me a glance and then trotted behind the trailer. I stopped moving and sucked a deep breath.

  "What if Fergus was waiting back there? What if he is upset about the team?"

  I shook the thoughts from my brain. "It's a free country."

  Lucky barked—not loud, more like a bluster, a grumble.

  I reached the side of the trailer and stuck my head around. No one was there. Just underwear and dungarees flapping on the line.

  Lucky joined me. I patted his head. "Suzy," I called but in a low voice, barely audible. "Suzy?" I raised it a little. "Suzy." I took more steps.

  Nothing. Not a sound. "Guess she's not coming, Lucky."

  He whimpered and we made our way to the front of the trailer, me still carrying a nine-inch apple crumb. I kept moving and headed toward home. Then I stopped, turned back, and set the pie in front of the trailer door. I gave a little rap and waited.

  "Let's go home, boy. She's not answering her door."

  I took a few steps and looked back in time to see the door open, a hand reach out and take the pie. A smile stretched across my face. "Apple crumb. No one can resist an apple crumb."

  9

  Lucky kept so close to me he knocked my knees. "So she didn't come out. At least we tried."

  Lucky whimpered.

  "She did take the pie, though. Hope she gets to taste it. That nasty Fergus Wrinkel will probably snatch it right away from her and eat the whole blooming thing by himself."

  Lucky barked his agreement.

  "But then again. Maybe she'll get a slice before he comes home tonight."

  With that thought in mind I headed up the hill that was Mango Street.

  The sky began to darken now and a few stars had shown up for their nightly duties. I paused a moment and remembered what Rose had said about God naming all the stars and how he calls them out at night. "Quite a job. You'd think God would delegate some of those responsibilities."

  But then again, I figured if I created all the stars in the sky I'd be a bit protective of them myself.

  My foot no sooner landed on the wooden path to my trailer when I heard Rose's yoo-hoo from behind.

  "Charlotte," she called. "Wait up a minute. Did you see Suzy?"

  I stopped and spun around. "She never showed, Rose."

  "Ah, too bad. But I kind of expected that. Asa is the only one I know that's been able to get Suzy to venture more than three feet away from that trailer. And then only for a minute or two before she runs back inside. Asa calls it a dang shame, says she's a pretty woman. Says she has a nice smile and a sweet disposition hiding under all that sadness."

  I pushed open the door and Rose and I settled at the kitchen table, where the cherry pie sat on a cooling rack, even though it was plenty cool by now. She picked at the crust.

  "Is she sick or something? Maybe she has cancer," I said."I hear folks with cancer can get awful depressed and she's so darn skinny. Maybe she should see Marlabeth."

  "I don't think she's sick, Charlotte. This has been going on for quite some time."

  My lips puckered when I chomped into a particularly sour cherry. "Every once in a while one gets through."

  Rose's forehead wrinkled. "One what?"

  "Sour cherry. I try to pick only the best-looking cherries, but sometimes I miss one or two and I just bit into a mighty sour one."

  Rose chewed pie and looked thoughtful. "Well, I think something sour is going on in that trailer, something real sour, Charlotte. You saw her black eyes and all."

  I swallowed. I didn't want to say out loud what I assumed Rose conjectured.

  "You saying what I think you're saying, Rose?"

  She pushed her fingers through her impossible hair. "Yeah. Sometimes, maybe on account of . . . you know, what happened to me, I get near her trailer and I get this feeling, could be the Holy Spirit, could be plain old intuition, but I get this feeling and then I get these flashbacks and, well, that's why I didn't go with you this afternoon. I try to avoid the Wrinkel trailer."

  "The flashbacks?"

  "Mm."

  Rose and I sat silently for the next few minutes until she heaved a big sigh. "But you know what, Charlotte? I think your moving to Paradise is a sign or a signal or something. I think it's time to find out what's going on inside the Wrinkel trailer."

  I didn't say anything right off. I mean, I couldn't just come right out and say, "Sure, Rose. Let's go pry into other people's business."

  Rose scraped the last of the cherry filling from her plate. "I think he's sweet on her."

  "Who? Who is sweet on who?"

  "Asa. I think he has a kind of faraway crush on Suzy. I know he'd help us."

  "But she's a married woman, Rose. You're not suggesting that Asa—"

  "No, of course not, Charlotte. Asa would never do anything like that, but I think he suspects something is wrong and he cares about her is all. Cares a lot about her, you know. That's all I'm saying."

  We talked for another few minutes until my eyes felt droopy and I didn't want to talk anymore about the subject. It was hard enough to think about, let alone discuss. And it made me think of Herman, and I didn't want to think about him that evening, so I made an excuse. "I'm getting tired, Rose. I think I'll read for a while, until I fall asleep."

  "That's a good idea. We'll make a plan in the morning."

  Morning arrived in a deluge of rain and rumbles of thunder. The sky was so dark it might as well have been nighttime. Buckets of rain fell hard, pelting my metal walls with such a ruckus that I couldn't sleep past six. It was the first real storm since I had moved to Paradise. Lucky cowered under the covers next to me.

  "You big old chicken. It's only thunder."

  But just as the words left my mouth, a crack of thunder and a bolt of lightning filled the room and about scared me to death. "Goodness gracious, Lucky. I think that storm is sitting right over top of Paradise. It's like a weather blitzkrieg with all that booming and lightning and crackles."

  I patted him. "Sorry, boy. It is pretty scary. You just hide under there as long as you need."

  I climbed out of bed, shrugged on my purple robe, and made my way to the kitchen. I was just about to plug in the percolator when BAM! Another rumble of thunder echoed through the park and all the lights went out in the trailer. I stood there a second holding the plug in my hand. Herman always said not to plug things in during an electrical storm. And here I was living inside a metal house. It might have knocked me all the way to Bermuda. Still I held onto the cord, feeling a trace of shock, looked to the ceiling, and said, "That's just fine and dandy, Lord. Couldn't wait until I had my coffee made to turn off the lights, now, could you?"

  I plopped into a kitchen chair. Rainwater rushed down Mango Street like a creek. The drops fell large and heavy and splattered against my bay window. It was like looking through cataracts, but I was pretty sure I saw Rose and Asa making their way down the street toward me. I rushed to my door and threw it open.

  "You crazy nuts. What are you doing out in this storm?"

  They made it safely inside, and I closed the door just before a bolt of lightning lit up the trailer.

  "Coffee," Asa said. He removed his slicker and hung it on the coat rack near the door.

  "Sorry, the power went out before I could make it."

  Rose pulled a Thermos out of her slicker. "We got plenty."

  I smiled and shook my head, amazed at Rose's uncanny knack for knowing things, or feeling things or suspecting things. Whatever it was, she just had a way of being tuned into life in a way I'd never experienced before.

  Asa hung Rose's rain slicker next to his. I notic
ed he was wearing hip-high fishing waders. I gave him a funny look and he smiled.

  "I heard of it raining cats and dogs but never trout," I said.

  Asa chuckled. "I like to wear them in the rain," he said."Easier for me to slip into than tie or buckle boots when I need to slop around the park." Then he let the suspenders droop and simply stepped out of the boots.

  I had to admit it made perfect sense, but that was the first time I ever had a man in waders come to my front door.

  "We can ride out the storm together," Rose said.

  I poured coffee from the Thermos. The aroma of the freshbrewed coffee wafted around the small room. It was nutty and brown and smelled like dirt and rain and springtime.

  "I spoke to the Frost sisters," Asa said. "They agreed to let us use some of their land to make a ball field." He reminded me of Lucky when he got all excited about going for a car ride. "A ball field, Charlotte, can you believe it? Paradise's own ball field."

  "And the best part is that it isn't on Paradise land," Rose said. "Not thing one Fergus Wrinkel can do about it."

  Out the corner of my eye I spotted an object flit past my trailer and then make a sharp turn down my wooden walkway."What in tarnation was that? Looked like a dog or a great big gopher or something."

  I heard a knock on the front door.

  "I'll get it," Asa said.

  I kept looking out the window. "What was it?"

  "Just Ginger Rodgers," Asa called. "She's sopping wet."

  "Ginger?" I felt a flush of embarrassment start at my toes and travel clear up to my ears. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to imply . . . I just couldn't see . . . "

  Rose touched my hand. "She didn't hear you, Charlotte. Don't fret. Even if she did, it would take a lot more than a gopher reference to upset her."

  I blew air out my nose. Paradise was a little hard to get used to.

  "Hello," Ginger called. She had a small-girl voice, almost as though her voice stopped growing when she did.

  "Welcome," I said. "Come in. Come in." I shook the surprise from my head and went to greet her.