Big Stone Gap Part 8

"I don't mean to be rude, but I just had a job with the Rescue Squad and I'm mighty tired. Maybe you heard. We had a bad explosion up at Wence. If you don't mind." I stand and motion them to the door. Aunt Alice leaves first and doesn't look back at me. Uncle Wayne, now in a gracious mode because he can taste cash, smiles weakly at me through his thin lips.

"We just want what we got coming to us."

"I hope you get what you've got coming to you."

I bolt the door behind them and go directly to the bathroom. I throw up. I am scared by how much I'm vomiting, and intermittently I cry. I flush with my left hand and lean and run the cold water with my right. As soon as I can splash the cold water on my face, vomit comes up again. This happens over and over, until nothing but clear water comes up from within me. I brush my teeth. I go to put the toothbrush back in its holder and find I can barely lift it. It is as though the toothbrush is made of concrete. I begin to cry again. I want my mother. I grip the sink. I watch my tears. .h.i.t the white porcelain and disappear down the drain. "I should have killed her for what she said about you, Mama." But deep within me, I know there is a better way to finish off Aunt Alice. I just have to find it.

CHAPTER FIVE.

The old wisdom that everybody needs a good lawyer is true. I have Lew. He is thorough and competent. I just wish Inez wouldn't repeat everything she hears in his office. I don't want my personal business discussed in line at the grocery store. Fleeta almost got in a fistfight when some unflattering stories were being pa.s.sed around about me on double-coupon Sat.u.r.day. For the most part, though, folks are more fascinated than judgmental that I turned out to be a b.a.s.t.a.r.d. They can't believe the intrigue of it all, or that a regular person like me could be in the center of such a tale. The truth is, most folks around here are cautious conservatives, and the Bible is a serious guidebook for them. I'm getting looks of pity and wonderment from practically everybody I run into. I can tell which of my customers are repeating stories because they cannot look me in the eye. I surprise myself, because it seems that something like this should cause me some shame. I am more relieved than ashamed, though. The relief hasn't brought me any peace of mind yet, but I am hopeful it will.

I need to speak to Lew, and I don't want Inez to hear what I have to say, so I wait until I see him leave his office to pick up his mail at the post office. I grab my coat and follow him.

Lew juggles his keys and opens his post office box. It is stuffed with mail. As he pulls it out, he drops a periodical and I pick it up for him. I tell him about Aunt Alice and Uncle Wayne's visit. Then I tell him my plan. I was up all night, scheming and drinking coffee, so I have a crazy look about me, but my mind is clear.

"You're thinking like a lawyer. That's scary," Lew says, as he makes a cylinder out of his mail and snaps a rubber band around it.

I wait for Lew to exit the post office. I buy a pack of stamps and wait a couple of minutes before I go. As I walk back to the Pharmacy, I see Inez grabbing a smoke on the stoop of the law office. I wave to her and smile. Any sign of warmth throws her off, so she looks at me like I'm the town kook, waves back, and smiles weakly.

I return to the Pharmacy. I fill all my prescription orders, check my inventory, and make my bank deposit. I skip lunch. I don't make any calls. I don't say much to Fleeta or Pearl. I do my work. And I wait. A few hours pa.s.s, and Pearl calls me to the front.

"Lew Eisenberg wants you to come over."

I hug Pearl and she looks at me oddly.

"It must be good news."

"Oh, it's not news. Not yet, anyway."

Pearl shrugs and returns to her work. She's sc.r.a.ping the tips off the used lipstick samples in the display rack. Fleeta is sitting on a box of new shampoos, taking a smoke, so she doesn't notice I'm leaving. As I round the corner, I feel the first cold chill of autumn. It seems like the seasons changed in the course of this one day. The cool temperature gives me a boost.

"Is your beloved inside?" I ask Inez.

She thinks this is a little too hilarious, and laughs. "Go on in," she says.

Lew is sitting behind his desk. He motions for me to sit down. He turns up the radio, so Inez can't hear us. He goes over the legalities of my plan. He says one thing that concerns me: Wayne Lambert's first cousin, Buddy Lambert, is our circuit court judge at the county level, and he is known as Judge Envelope. He can be bought, and Lew believes Wayne has probably already cut a deal. There is a part of me that agrees with Aunt Alice; Fred Mulligan's money and real estate don't really belong to me. Maybe I caused all this. Maybe my ambivalence about my father, the store, the money, and the house drew all these problems to me. Maybe Aunt Alice senses my weaknesses and knows how to hurt me the most. Her brother sure did; don't these traits run in families? I don't think she'll quit until she makes me suffer.

Fred Mulligan was the most obstinate man I ever knew. His stubbornness-not his affection for my mother-is what made their marriage last. When I was in high school, he insisted that a lemon tree could grow in Big Stone Gap. No matter how much we argued with him, he could not accept that lemons need heat and sun to grow, the opposite of overcast and cool mountain weather. When the plant didn't bear fruit, he blamed the mail-order company. The lemon tree is still in the backyard. Its branches are gray and twisted, wrapped around the drainpipe by the back-porch stoop. I'll never tear it down; it reminds me not to turn bitter.

Lew sees my uncertainty. "You're doing the right thing, Ave Maria," he rea.s.sures me.

I have to stand up for myself. There is no one here to do that for me. For the first time in my life, I truly understand alone. My mother is gone. There is no brother or sister for me to turn to, no husband, just my intuition.

I don't want the Lamberts to get a dime. I think of Aunt Alice mistreating my mother, and it is all the fuel I need. Lew gives me the paperwork, which I sign. He hides it in a satchel to take to court. Then Lew shakes my hand. He places both hands on mine, to give me support and courage. I want to hug him, but I can't.

I pa.s.s Inez, who is now sitting at her desk, and turn back to Lew with one final thought.

"Lew, thank you for helping me. Aunt Alice and Uncle Wayne really deserve all they're getting. It's what Fred Mulligan would have wanted."

Lew stands in the doorway. "We're happy to have been of service to you." Lew waves good-bye.

I'm out on the street, and I can hear Inez chatting on the phone already.

Insko is a tract of free land between Big Stone Gap and Appalachia that had been strip-mined. Instead of reclaiming the area, HUD put up low-income housing. When the valley floods, they move the people high up into the hills until their homes in the valley can be rebuilt. Sometimes it takes so long, folks give up and stay where they were placed.

Folks around here both rely upon and resent the government. When I was in school, we benefited from many programs. All of our vaccinations were free. Our lunch trays were filled with freebies: small bags of peanuts, a chocolate bar, or my favorite: a wedge of cheddar stamped GOVERNMENT CHEESE. They even sent entertainment from time to time. When I was in high school, a production of Harvey toured through, out of New York. I wasn't the only student to notice that the lead actor was drunk and actually fell asleep onstage during the second act. But we didn't care. We were looking for any excuse to be a part of the outside world, to see what folks looked like, sounded like, and wore. For fifteen cents, you could see a show and imagine the exciting lives of those actors on the stage. We were never disappointed.

Pearl and her mother live in one of the older homes at the far end of the Insko development. I have dropped Pearl off several times, so I know where to go. I pull up in front of the two-room house. I didn't call ahead because I couldn't-they still don't have a phone, and they aren't planning on getting one, as Pearl is saving for college. The aluminum siding needs replacing, and the porch is rickety and practically separated from the house. The government is not very diligent about maintenance. The windows are thin side-by-side sliders, no insulation. I can see a light on in the house. A few kids play nearby. They stop and stare at me. I fish around my purse for some gum. I find it and give it to them. They thank me and run off.

I knock a few times. Finally, the screen door cracks open about an inch.

"Mrs. Grimes?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'm Ave Maria Mulligan, from town."

Leah Grimes peeks out at me.

"Pearl went to fetch some leaves or something for her science project."

"May I come in and wait for her?"

"I guess so."

Leah Grimes opens the door to reveal a very clean but spa.r.s.ely furnished room. There is an old bench, a small table, and a lamp. In the next room are two neatly made twin beds with old quilts on them. The kitchenette is neat. A pot of soup simmers on one of the two burners. Pearl comes in the door, breathless.

"Is everything all right, Miss Ave?"

"Everything is fine."

"Mama, this is my boss, Miss Ave."

"I know that." Leah stands tall but looks at me funny.

"Pearl is a good worker. I don't know what I'd do without her."

"I know. She's a good girl."

"Has she brought you any of that miraculous Queen Helene masque yet?"

"Yes, ma'am." Leah smiles and covers her mouth.

"I apologize if we've used you as a guinea pig for our new products, but we needed a woman with natural beauty to test it out on."

"I used to be pretty, before I lost my teeth."

"You know they can give you new teeth in town."

"Someday. Right, Mama?" Pearl says, and gives her mother's hand a quick squeeze.

"Would you like some tea?" Leah asks, finally warming up.

"If you don't mind, I've got some business to discuss with Pearl." Pearl stands up straight and acts terribly grown-up at the mention of business.

Pearl takes me on a tour of the development. About a quarter mile down the road is one of our local natural wonders: the waterfalls of Roaring Branch. It's a magical place, natural stone steps with pure mountain water rushing over them. Folks come this way to sit and think and take in the beauty.

"You didn't know we was so poor, did you?"

"I make a lot of deliveries in these parts."

Pearl and I sit and look at the water for a long time.

"How come you drove up here to see me? Am I fired or something?"

"No. You're doing a great job."

"Thank you. I bug Fleeta sometimes," Pearl apologizes. She looks at me expectantly, wondering why I've come.

"Pearl, do you have a dollar?"

"You just paid me. I got forty-six dollars."

"I just need one."

Pearl takes out her beaded coin purse and unfolds her money neatly. She gives me a dollar bill. "Do you need more? Here. Take as much as you want."

"No, thanks. One will do it. Now, let's shake on it."

Pearl is confused, but she shakes my hand.

"Congratulations, Pearl. You just bought the Mutual Pharmacy."

"I did? But why?"

As I walk Pearl back to her house, I explain that in order to protect the business from the scavenger Lamberts, I had to sell, and sell quickly. I had to make some big decisions in a hurry. I decided to sell my business so it couldn't be taken from me.

When we get back to the house, Pearl turns to me.

"Can I tell Mama?"

"Absolutely. Just tell her to keep it top secret until I say so."

"Miss Ave, are you sure about this?"

"Yes, ma'am. By the way, just because you own the place, you are under no obligation to become a pharmacist. You go to college and study whatever you'd like and be whatever it is you decide you want to be. Fleeta and I can hold down the fort while you're gone. Fleeta will probably hit you up for a raise directly. I'm not so forward. But I do have a lot of experience, should you decide to keep me. I have a knack with the public."

"But why did you pick me? Of all people?"

"Well, let's just put it this way, Pearl Grimes. You're just about the best person I ever knew."

Pearl smiles. In the slate-blue twilight, her face is pure, unlined, and full of joy. Something good has finally happened to Pearl. At long last, somebody believes in her. Tonight in this exchange she has gained the tools with which she will build her self-esteem: She has been chosen and she has security. Maybe this is all that a person ever needs to succeed. Pearl has been picked, and that has begun to define her.

I promised Iva Lou I would meet her at the Sub Sandwich Carry-Out for a bite. This is mainly a teen hangout, but the rest of us go because the food is good. It has a nice ambiance; the plastic Tiffany-style chandeliers and orange Formica booths are casual and comfortable.

I tell Iva Lou about Aunt Alice and selling the business to Pearl.

"Honey-o, you ought to thank the Lord you came up with a plan like that. If your mean old aunt ever got her mangy mitts on the Mutual, n.o.body would trade over there. It'd close down. Ain't n.o.body gonna do trading with that witch."

"Lew really knows what he's doing."

"You know what I always say. A good lawyer is harder to find than a good husband. I'll have to swing by and thank old Lew my way." Iva Lou winks.

"Please. I'm in enough trouble."

"Aw, I'm just kidding with you. But what happens to you? What will you do?" Of course, I've thought about this. I've never made an impulsive decision in my life.

"I've saved a lot of money, Iva Lou."

"Good for you."

"I'll work for Pearl for a while, and then we'll see what happens."

d.i.c.kie and Arlan Baker, two Mormon fellows, join us in the booth. Iva Lou makes the introductions, as she was the one who set up the meeting. The Baker brothers look to be in their twenties. They are clean; their hair is cropped short, their skin smooth and pink. (Mama always told me to cut down on the soda pop, because it's bad for the skin. As a rule, Mormons don't drink pop; their skin is an advertis.e.m.e.nt to give it up entirely.) They wear regulation black trousers and white cotton b.u.t.ton-down shirts. For as many years as there have been Mormons, the young men have gone door-to-door wearing the same clothing combo, pa.s.sing out the same literature, preaching like the good missionaries they are. The brothers have come to the Pharmacy a couple of times, but I was always too busy to talk to them.

"Boys, we need your help out of Salt Lake City. We need to climb up Ave Maria's family tree." Iva Lou opens a spiral notebook and uncaps her pen. "There's a man over in It-lee, and we need to find him p.r.o.nto. That means 'fast' in Italian."

I laugh because this is one of the first words I taught Iva Lou.

"How can we help you?" d.i.c.kie-or is it Arlan?-asks.

"This is pretty much all the information we have on Mario Barbari presently." Iva Lou gives them the book with the picture of Mario as the mayor of Schilpario in it. "Don't lose it. UVA'll have my hide." d.i.c.kie looks at Mario's picture.

"I think we can help. Most folks don't have pictures."

Iva Lou listens as the Baker brothers explain how the Mormons came to be experts in genealogy. G.o.d bless her patience. She is such a dear friend, but I'm worried. We are so caught up in how to find Mario, I haven't had time to think about what will happen if we do. What if he rejects me? How will I handle it? I'm peeling off my old life like wet clothes. It isn't easy, but I have to do it. What will my new life be? Letting go of the Pharmacy, something I thought I would never do, wasn't sad. It was exhilarating. I am becoming lighter. Will finding Mario da Schilpario be the one thing that brings me happiness? Will I truly be free of my Mulligan past when Alice Lambert finally gets her comeuppance?

Iva Lou rips the pages out of her spiral notebook. "Y'all scoot. And here's my number when you get the information."

d.i.c.kie and Arlan thank Iva Lou for dinner. They take their black valises and go.

"Iva Lou, what would I do without you?"