Dry Spell: A Mercy Watts Short (5 page)

“Now you’re cookin’ with gas. Tell me exactly what Janine said.”

I told him everything. It was kind of fun to watch his mind working. He didn’t write anything down and his small brown eyes bored into me, taking it all in.
 

“That ain’t shit, but call me tonight and we’ll see what happens.”

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about it.”

And I didn’t. One of the advantages to Uncle Morty was that he would cover all bases. If there was something to be found, he would find it.
 

I went home and discovered my boyfriend, Pete, asleep on the sofa with my cat, Skanky draped over his neck like a scarf. Skanky probably could’ve cleaned his rear on Pete’s face and he wouldn’t have woken up. Pete was a surgical resident and he’d taken to sleeping at my place because it was close to the hospital and I had food. I didn’t wake him. He needed the sleep and I didn’t want to talk about Janine anyway. He wouldn’t get the missing girl research. He’d order a CAT scan. Pete was all science.
 

I went to take a boiling hot bath, call my coordinator and find out where I’d be working next, a quiet podiatrist’s office out in South County. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be any fitness freaks that would try to drag me to classes designed to kill me.
 

The bath didn’t calm my mind and I got desperate. I started cleaning around the now snoring Pete. I wasn’t a clean freak, but I needed to turn off my brain. My apartment was never cleaner than when I was upset. I practically sterilized the bathroom.
 

At five, I called Morty with my stomach in my throat. I don’t know what I was hoping for. I didn’t want to hope at all. I didn’t want that little girl to be real, but if she wasn’t, where did that leave Ellen?

“Uncle Morty, it’s me. Did you find anything?”
 

Mort paused after saying hello and I knew. Of course, he’d found her. She wasn’t in Janine’s head after all.
 

“Glenville, Kentucky. She disappeared in 1999 with her pink bicycle. Her name’s Janet Lee Fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to? I’m sure. It’s her right down to the heart on the pink shirt.”

“Shit. I guess I have to tell Ellen.”

“Nah,” he said.

“Why not?”

“It could be a coincidence.”

“Yeah, right,” I said.
 

“Don’t you know nothing? There’s connections all over the damn place. Janine could have seen a news report on her, a flyer, if they reopened the case. Maybe she’s describing some kid at school. Who the hell knows? Ellen’ll just get freaked out.”

“I have to help Ellen. She’s scared to death.”

“You’ll have to find Janet then and cops been looking for over a decade.”

“The cops didn’t have Janine,” I said. “Too bad this isn’t a local thing. At least I know the area, but she’s probably in Kentucky. What am I supposed to do with that? There’s an awful lot of dirt in Kentucky.”

“There’s a lot of dirt here. You need more details. Go back to Janine and try again. Concentrate on location. Call me after.”

We hung up and I called Ellen to invite myself over. Even though I didn’t say anything definitive she did freak out a little and told me to come for dinner right then. I didn’t have time for a Kronos stop, so I ate a granola bar on the way. Since it was healthy, I found it in the back of my cabinet so it was good and stale. I felt like I was eating a bar of wood shavings. Ellen’s cooking would be a welcome relief.
 

Dinner turned out to be a hearty, home-style affair with lots of cream of mushroom soup. It reminded me of my grandma’s cooking and it was good.
 

Both Ellen and Jeremy smiled a lot and joked with the girls, but it seemed forced and pained somehow. The grooves under Jeremy’s eyes had deepened and turned a shade darker. Ellen’s hands shook when she unboxed the chocolate pie she pulled out of the fridge. I waited until the girls went to hunt for the cat and then asked, “What’s going on?”

“The usual,” said Ellen.

“Meaning he hasn’t gone away?” I said.

“No, he hasn’t gone away,” said Jeremy.
 

Ellen’s smile wavered and turned downward. “Now she’s talking about ducks and water. She says that there are people all around the girl. She wants to know why they don’t help her. I don’t know what to say.”
 

“You seemed so happy tonight I thought he’d gone.”

“I feel better. Something’s being done. We’re not sitting around waiting.”

Jeremy stood and abruptly left the room. Ellen filled our coffee cups and folded a napkin into a complicated triangle.
 

“He’s not thrilled,” she said.

“I got that. What’s wrong, other than the obvious?”

“I think he’s upset that you’re taking this seriously and even worse your dad is. Before it was Janine's imagination and now it’s real.”

“Sorry about that. I don’t know what else to tell you, except we’re doing our best. Do you mind if I talk to Janine now?”

“Give Jilly her bath first. If you don’t, she’ll never give you a minute’s peace.”

 
I gave Jilly her bath and had my hair scrubbed. I hadn’t gotten all the tangles out from Janine’s washing yet. By the time Jilly was finished, I needed professional help. After she dried and dressed, Ellen put her in front of a DVD and I took Janine to her room. We colored at her desk. Janine drew her specialty, unicorns, and I did a complicated beetle, who kept trying to bite the unicorn.
 

“Do you remember what we talked about when I gave you your bath?” I asked.

“Uh huh,” Janine said, not looking up from her drawing.

“My daddy and I are trying very hard to help the little girl, but we need some more help from you. Do you think you can do that?”

“Okay.”

“Your mom said you mentioned ducks and water?”

“Uh huh.”

“Are they near the girl?”

“Sometimes.” Janine eyed me and giggled. Her unicorn was now pooping on my beetle. The little skunk.
 

I drew a beetle with a bigger mouth and jagged teeth. “Did the girl move?”

“No.”

“But now there are ducks and water?”

“Uh huh.”

That line of questioning was going to drive me up a wall. Time to move on.

“Can you tell me anything else about where she is?” As I spoke, I saw a shadow, too big to be Ellen, fall across the hall wall opposite Janine’s door. I was glad I left the door open. Maybe it would make Jeremy feel better to hear what his little girl had to say.

“There’s lots of people and music,” said Janine.

“Like a party?”

“A big party.”

“Is there a party all the time?”

“It goes away.” Janine scratched her nose and gestured to my paper. I was falling down on the job.

“Do you know where the water is?”

She shook her head and drew an extra horn on her new unicorn. I gave her a big hug and a kiss.
 

“Are you happy?” she asked.

“Yes, I’m very happy and you’re my special sweetheart.”

We talked about her preschool, who was nice and who was not. She colored in my bugs and we sang some Faith Hill songs. Finally, she rubbed her eyes and I went to get Ellen. The moment I entered the hall, I felt lightheaded. The air was thick and oppressive like I was outside. My heart began to beat faster and faster. I bumped into the wall and out of the corner of my eye I saw something move and something brushed my cheek like a fingertip. I felt my way along the hall, every detail in the texture came out at me and I couldn’t stop staring at it. My nose was touching the wall and the air became an unbearable pressure. I felt myself sliding down the wall like I wasn’t in control of my own movements. Then I was sitting on the floor, my cheek now raw from the sliding. The pressure disappeared and in its place was a faint sound that grew steadily louder. I closed my eyes and willed the bile coming up my throat to go back down. I swallowed spastically as the sound became clear. It was music, several kinds mixing and weaving together. A country twangy song was the loudest, under it was a faster beat with a dance groove, and the distinctive melody of an oompah band, beneath them all the unchanging sound of a carnival. Rides with singsong music and a constant ringing of bells. I closed my eyes tighter and I could almost see the lights. As suddenly as it started; it stopped. The pressure and music and the carnival were all gone. I sat on the floor with my face and body damp. A bead of sweat rolled down from my armpit into my bra. I swallowed again, my eyes focused.
 

I walked into the living room with my hand bracing me on the wall. Ellen and Jeremy sat on the sofa watching
Downton Abbey
. They looked up and my knees buckled. Jeremy was off the sofa and at my side before I hit the floor. “What happened? Where’s Janine?”

“In her room,” I said, walking with Jeremy to the sofa.
 

Ellen ran past us and yelled back, “She’s fine!”

“You look like you’re going to throw up. Do you want a pail? What happened to your cheek?” Jeremy asked.

“Nothing. Jilly loves her loofah. I need to go. I think I’m coming down with something. I just want to go to bed.”

Jeremy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You scared me. Are you sure?”

“Sure. Tell Ellen I’ll call her later.”

I got out to my truck before Ellen came out. She knew me too well to buy that loofah story. I don’t know how I drove home. I threw up on the way. Luckily, I keep a lot of old fast food bags handy. Mom always says that’s gross, it’s a lot less gross than barfing on one’s self.
 

I went straight to the sofa looking for Pete. Naturally I found it empty, unless you count Skanky. He was elegant as usual, laying on his back in a C with four paws in the air.
 

I plopped down next to him and scratched his fluffy belly. “I think I just had a supernatural experience.”
 

Skanky opened a disinterested eye, then rolled off the sofa, and sauntered toward the bedroom.
 

“A dog would listen to me,” I called after my worthless feline.
 

He twitched his tail and disappeared around the corner. Cats. Sometimes I appreciated the independence. Sometimes not so much. I leaned back and closed my eyes. My hand touched something wedged between the cushions. My hand jerked away and my heart rate shot up again, but it was only a tattered box with telltale teeth marks and a short note from Pete saying he loved me. Pete had taken to leaving me little gifts when he used my apartment. This time it was caramels from Bissinger’s Chocolatier. It’s amazing how chocolate settles the stomach. I ate two caramels before I called Uncle Morty and mustered my best ‘I’m fine’ voice.

“Hi, it’s me.”

“Yeah. What?” His keyboard keys clicked busily in the background and the sound made me want to vomit all over again.

“She's near ducks and water.”

He made a flappy noise with his lips. “You sound like a psychic. Everybody is always near water.”

“There’s a lot of people and music, too.”

“I call that a wasted trip.”

“Uh huh.”

“You alright? You sound funny.”

“I don’t feel funny. I feel like crap.” The keys stopped clicking.

“What else?”

“Nothing,” I said.

“Don’t make me call Carolina. She’ll be on you like a duck on a June bug.”

I nibbled another caramel. “I’m not sure what happened. I might be coming down with something.”

“No, you ain’t. Spill it.” A pencil began tapping with loud grinding taps.
 

“I walked out of Janine’s room and this horrible change in the air happened. Everything was thick and distorted. It was like having a really high fever, like I was delirious.”

“And?”

“I heard something, music. Different kinds, but under it all was the sound of a carnival. Just when I heard it clearly, it all stopped.”

“You been watching too many
X-files
reruns.”

“You should talk.”

“Yeah, yeah. Tell me what we got?”

I yawned. The fear was seeping away and I began to feel ridiculous. Like that really happened. “I think we’ve got a little girl buried next to a lake with a carnival nearby.”

“Quiet.” The clicking began again with a furious pace.
 

I curled up and dragged an afghan over my legs. “How long is this minute going to be?”

“Shut it. Every freaking county in the state has a fair.”

“Great,” I groaned. “Which state, Kentucky or Missouri?”

“Missouri. I doubt the brown man picked Janine at random. He wants that girl to be found. I’ve got three possibilities. Augusta, Poplar Bluff, and St. Sebastian. You been to these podunk towns?”

“St. Sebastian. I was looking for Claire’s so-called husband.”