“Wow,” I said. Wanda seemed to have her tower of terror under control now, so I stepped back into the room-but just for a second. “I guess that does change things a bit. Rest assured I will expand my investigation commensurate with the information I have gleaned from this most productive, but hardly digestible, lunch. Perhaps next time we will actually eat.”
That said, it was time to make like a stocking in a briar patch. And run I did, for I had just experienced an epiphany of sorts.
27
I was starving by then, and Freni had taken off for the rest of the day, so what was a nursing mother to do? Perhaps drive the two miles up to the turnpike and hit the plethora of fast-food restaurants that have brought splashes of bold color and bright lights to our otherwise boring landscape of farms, forests, and small towns? While a triple cheeseburger and a large chocolate shake were rather tempting, it was doubtful the young staff at any of these establishments would be willing, or able, to deliver wise counsel along with my meal. Therefore, a home-cooked meal and the ear of an old coot were definitely worth the ten-mile drive to the far side of Hernia.
As usual, Doc Shafor and Old Blue, his bloodhound, were waiting for me at the end of his long drive. Doc is an octogenarian with the libido of an eighteen-year-old, and Old Blue is the canine equivalent of a man in his nineties, but whose sexual interest was nipped in the bud, so to speak, when she was just a pup.
“What took you so long?” Doc asked. That’s what he says every time I show up unannounced. “Lunch is getting cold.”
“How did you know I was coming?” That is my usual patter.
“Old Blue here could smell you coming the second your mind turned to it. Of course, she’s a mite confused by the baby. Do you mind if she gets a better whiff?”
I bent down and let the old girl, who is almost totally blind, snuffle her big black nose all over my son. Little Jacob, who was wide awake, gurgled with apparent glee. Although I love animals of all kinds-I once carried a pussy in my bra-I draw the line at slobber. Just as a string of drool was about to detach from the ancient pooch, I yanked up the car seat.
“Well, what’s for lunch?”
“Not so fast,” Doc said. “I want to get a gander at your son.” He peered at Little Jacob almost as intently as Old Blue had sniffed him. But since Doc is nearsighted, it seemed to be a bit much. My son, however, seemed rather pleased by the intense scrutiny and smiled broadly.
“Everything is still there,” I said. “So far there’ve been no recalls-knock on wood.”
“I was trying to determine whom he looks like. I’m betting that he’ll grow up to be the spitting image of his daddy.”
Half of me was elated, the other half disappointed. “Why do you say that?”
“His eyes have already turned a nice rich brown, and what little hair he has is coming in dark as well. But I can see that he has your personality; the kid’s got moxie. I have a special feeling about this one, Magdalena. Take it from an old geezer like me: your son is going places.”
“Is this, like, a prophecy?”
“Let’s call it a feeling. Hey, what do you think of Susannah running off with a bus full of nuns?”
“They aren’t really nuns, and they ran off with her.”
“The Eternal Sisters of Pariah-sheesh, what a name.”
“It’s the Sisters of Perpetual Apathy,” I said, “and by the way, your ex-sweetie has joined them.”
“Which one?”
It was a fair question. Doc remained celibate for the first fifteen years following the death of his wife. In the last five years, however, he has courted just about every single female in Bedford County between the ages of eighteen and 108. The latter literally died on him when he foolishly (they could have been arrested for jumping there!) took her tandem bungee jumping off the New River Gorge Bridge.
“I’m talking about Ida Rosen,” I said. “My mother-in-law.”
“No kidding!”
“I don’t have an imagination, Doc. I couldn’t possibly have made this up.”
“Do they have to take a vow of celibacy?”
“Think about it, Doc. My sister, Susannah, is in charge.”
“Oh, yeah. Shoot, I should have asked to go along-maybe as the bus driver.”
“Doc, remember that these are women who’ve dedicated themselves to apathy. Seducing them wouldn’t be nearly as fun as you think.”
“I could handle that; I’ve slept with Englishwomen before.”
“TMI!”
“What’s that mean again?”
“Too much information. Doc, how’s your head?” Doc had been critically brutalized about the time I found out I was pregnant. His assailant was Melvin Stoltzfus, who once was our former chief of police but now is an escaped murderer. It was at Doc’s house that I confronted the menacing mantis (he really does resemble one), and that I also learned that the despicable man was my biological brother. This, of course, makes him the uncle of the world’s sweetest, most attractive baby boy.
“I’m doing just fine, girl. It’s Old Blue you should be worrying about. This morning a chipmunk ran within six inches of her nose and she kept on sleeping.”
“Maybe her dreams were too good for her to want to wake up. I’ve had that happen to me.”
“Let’s hope. I don’t know what I’ll do when the time comes-” His voice cracked.
“I’ll be there, Doc; we’ll get through it.”
“You’re a good friend, Magdalena.”
“Tell that to my enemies, will you?”
“Well, you know what they say.”
“No, what do they say, Doc?”
“That a life lived without accruing any enemies was not a life worth living.”
“Really? I haven’t heard that one before. Speaking of enemies, Doc, I’d like to ask you a question, but it’s kind of sensitive.”
“Don’t listen to those women’s libbers, Magdalena; Viagra is really your friend.”
“Doc! It isn’t about sex! It’s about Melvin. As far as the authorities know-well, they don’t seem to know anything about his whereabouts. Nada. Zip. Not one thing. He could still be in Hernia, hiding out in someone’s barn, or he could be in Timbuktu. Aren’t you afraid living out here on the edge of town all alone?”
“I’m not alone; I’ve got Old Blue, remember?”
“No offense, Doc, but she’s a senior citizen as well.”
“And so was Moses when he led the Exodus. And Abraham when he became the father of a great nation. What’s your point?”
“Nothing, I guess.”
“I’ve always said you were a reasonable woman, Magdalena.”
We continued to walk in companionable silence to the house. Sure enough, the table was set for two, but since I know that he still sets it for his deceased wife, Belinda, I didn’t put too much truck in Old Blue’s ability to predict the arrival of guests. Still, there was enough food to feed two Mennonites-or two buckeyes of any faith-or four cradle Episcopalians from New England.
I lunched on a hot roast beef sandwich with mashed potatoes and homemade gravy. On the side Doc served some green beans he’d canned the previous summer, as well as a carrot and raisin slaw, and pickled beets. For dessert he cut me a slab of the world’s densest butter pound cake, over which he spooned fresh strawberries, which he claimed had been flown into Pittsburgh all the way up from Chile.
When I was stuffed to the gills he told me to belch, which I did, and then he served me a cup of hot chocolate with ladyfingers on the side. “Now, tell me why you’re here,” he said.
“What do you mean? To see how you are, of course. You’re my friend.”
“Yes, but I’m also a dirty old man who hits on you every time you set foot on my property. Plus, I know a story when I hear it.”
“Okay.” I slurped loudly with forced languidness and then settled back in my chair, my left hand resting on Little Jacob’s chest. The dear baby had fallen asleep again; I’d fed him lunch just before I sat down to eat my own meal. “It’s this: the Babester has left me, and I’m having one St. Louis Airport-Concourse A-of a time trying to figure out who killed Minerva J. Jay.”