Finding Bluefield (9 page)

“I will.” Nicky maneuvered back onto the road. On the radio, the announcer read the results of the primaries. Barry Goldwater was going to make things easy for Lyndon Johnson. Nicky had never liked Johnson. She figured that somehow he was involved with those Texans killing JFK.

It started to rain and soon the rain began coming down hard. The wipers looked like they were trying to make the car take off. The college radio station was playing songs with rain in the title. It was “Singin’ in the Rain” by the time the rain slowed to a drizzle. Nicky turned her wipers on and off as she drove. They wiped away the drops, they hesitated, they wiped again.

*

“I’m ready now, Doc,” Nicky said when Dr. Roberts entered her exam room.

“Your baby’s not quite as ready as you are,” Dr. Roberts said. “But soon. Couple of weeks at most.” Dr. Roberts paused to look at her chart. “The good news is that everything looks fine.”

“How big is the baby?”

“I always guess between four and twelve pounds and that way I’m seldom wrong.”

“Promise me he’s healthy?” Nicky sat up.

“I’m sure he’ll be. But you know there aren’t any guarantees. Is Dr. Phillips still renting from you out at the farm?”

“She is,” Nicky said.

“Good. It never hurts to have a doctor in the house.” Dr. Roberts stood. “Keep doing what you’re doing. This close to your due date means you should avoid trips more than an hour away from the hospital.” He sat next to Nicky. “Have you made any decisions,” he asked, “about what to do after the baby is born?”

“What do you mean?” Nicky said.

“I want to make sure you are aware of your options,” he said.

“Options?”

“It’s my professional obligation, as well as my personal responsibility to the memory of your mother and your father. With all his troubles, man still found a way to help out my father during a tough time—”

“You’re losing me, Doc.”

“Should you be considering giving the baby up, it’s much easier to do that without seeing the infant.”

“I’m not giving the baby up.” Nicky took a deep breath and tried to steady her hands. “Where did you get that idea?”

“I’m not saying you are. I just want you to know what to expect in case that’s what you decide.”

“What circumstances?”

“Less than optimal,” he said, facing Nicky. “Look, Nicky, I’m just concerned. And so is your sister.”

“You spoke to Carol-Ann?”

“She called me. She gave me the impression you wanted to know your options.”

Nicky dressed quickly and quietly. “When did she call you?”

“Carol-Ann was just looking out for you. It’s difficult to marry when you have a child. She said that you were also considering having her adopt the child so that he would remain in the family. That would be very nice of her.”

“I appreciate your concern, Doc, but I am not giving up my baby. I am staying right here and raising my baby,” she said, moving toward the door. “His name will be Paul Stewart and I will teach him to farm.”

“Like your dad. That’s nice.”

“And that’s the only option I’m considering.”

“I must have misunderstood Carol-Ann. You know my family feels indebted to your father.”

“I’m sorry my sister put you in the middle of this.”

“I must have misunderstood her. That’s the last I will ever speak of it. I don’t want you to get worked up. The important thing to focus on is that baby is doing great. You’re doing great, and the two of you will be meeting soon enough.”

Once outside, Nicky checked the time. If she left right away, she could make Richmond and be back in time to meet Barbara for dinner. The ride would do her good, take her mind off the conversation she just had. And she could pick up a bucket of Bub’s ribs. She’d mentioned those ribs often enough that it was time Barbara had some.

Finding the First Baptist was no longer difficult, and Nicky shut her engine in the parking lot. She waited behind the wheel, lacking the energy to get out of the car and look around. After a few minutes, Reverend Peters emerged from the chapel and walked toward her. Nicky rolled down her window.

“Thank you for coming,” the reverend said. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’m sure.” Nicky pressed her cigarette into the astray and lit another. She was trying not to let on that she was shaking and wondering what she was doing.

“Leroy’s going to the bus station,” the reverend said.

“I know where that is.”

“You’re not in a rush, so don’t speed. Needless to say, you don’t want to be stopped.”

“I’ve never gotten a ticket.”

“If you’re stopped, just tell them that he works for you.”

The reverend turned and waved toward the chapel door. Two men emerged with Leroy, who they helped down the steps. A third man carried several suitcases. When they reached the car, one of the men asked for Nicky’s keys and he put Leroy’s stuff in the trunk. The other men lay some blankets on the rear floor.

“It’ll be better if Leroy stays down on the back floor till you get into Richmond.”

“Sure,” Nicky said. “Whatever you think is best.”

The men helped Leroy lay down across the rear floor.

“Has he seen a doctor?” Nicky asked the reverend. “He looks bad.”

“He’ll be okay once he gets on the bus. Someone will meet you at the station.”

“How will I recognize them?” Nicky asked.

“He’ll find you,” he said. “Thank you again for your help.”

“Should I call you?”

“Better if you don’t. I’ll get a call from Richmond.”

Nicky took a deep breath and turned the key. I love this car, she thought as she shifted into gear, let the clutch pedal up, and took off. She turned right on Summer Boulevard, took a left onto Jefferson Avenue, and headed east.

“You okay back there, Leroy?”

“I’m okay.”

“Want a cigarette?” Nicky asked.

“It might look odd to see smoke rising from the rear seat that has no passenger.”

“That would look funny.”

Nicky pulled the lighter out of the dash. “What happened, anyway?”

“I guess I upset some people.”

“What were you doing?”

“Nothing,” Leroy said.

“Nothing?”

“The less you know, the less trouble you could get into.”

“Too late for that, so go ahead and tell me,” Nicky said.

“Okay. You’re right,” Leroy said. “I was helping to register voters.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s enough,” Leroy said.

“Not what I heard.”

“What did you hear?”

“That you tried to rape Norma James, that you pulled a knife on a couple of white boys when they tried to stop you.”

“That’s a good story, but it’s a story. I’m guessing that you didn’t believe it since you’re driving me.”

“Where are you going?”

“New York City,” Leroy said.

“Till this blows over?”

“This won’t blow over. At least not for me.”

Nicky drove along farmland and through small towns as she made her way east. She had never driven with this kind of pressure. She never worried about being stopped, never cared. She’d always talked her way out of it. She knew talking wouldn’t do much good this time.

“You have people in New York?” Nicky asked.

“Cousins,” Leroy said.

“They grew up around here?”

“I’ve never met them.”

“You know, Leroy, I’ve been working with you for two years and I don’t even know if you’re married.”

“I am.”

“Any kids?”

“My girl is eight and my son is five. They’ll come up to New York after I get settled.”

“New York is sure going to be different than Bluefield,” Nicky said. “The longest I ever lasted in a city was two weeks when I stayed with my sister out in L.A. Course I wasn’t crazy about living with my sister, so who knows? You have any brothers and sisters?”

“Two brothers and a sister,” Leroy said. “And a nephew.”

“Nice. A big family is nice.”

They reached the city limits and Leroy sat up. Nicky asked him if he wanted to get some ribs with her. He preferred to go directly to the bus station.

“Is Leroy Ellison your full name?”

“Leroy Turner Ellison.”

“It’s a nice name.”

Nicky pulled to a stop and opened her door.

Leroy pushed the front seat forward and climbed out the passenger side door. Nicky unlocked the trunk and Leroy put his bags on the curb.

“I’d better go in myself,” Leroy said.

“You’re going to manage with all these bags?”

“I’ll be okay. Besides, you’re way too pregnant to carry anything.”

An elderly man came over to the car. He looked at Leroy. “Can I give you a hand with those packages, son?”

“No, thanks, sir.”

“I’m not a porter, son,” the man said. “You’re Leroy Ellison?”

“Yes, sir,” Leroy said.

“Reverend Peters called,” the man said. “I’m here to help you get on your bus.”

“Thank you, sir,” Leroy said. He turned to Nicky and extended his hand toward her. “Thank you, Nicky Stewart. All the best to you and your baby.”

“You take care of yourself, Leroy Turner Ellison. And thank you.” Nicky took his hand between both of hers and held it.

“For what?” Leroy said.

“Just thank you,” Nicky said.

“I think we’d best be on our way,” the man said, lifting some pieces of luggage. He turned to Nicky. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said as he herded Leroy toward the station.

Nicky got back into her car. At Bub’s she picked up a full bucket of ribs, a quart of slaw, and extra sauce. Once she was out of Richmond, she shifted into high gear, pushed down hard on the gas pedal, and let the Bel Air loose. She began to relax as she cruised along the road toward home. Without Leroy in the car, she would tell the troopers that she was in labor and trying to make it back to Bluefield Hospital. The radio played Elvis and Nicky sang along. She was feeling good as she reached over and took a rib from the bucket and worked at it slow.

Three ribs and an hour later, Nicky had to pull over. She couldn’t tell if she was having contractions or gas. When the pain eased, she drove as fast as she could to Four Corners where she pulled into the station and leaned hard on the horn. Andy came running.

“The baby’s coming.” Nicky pushed opened her door.

“What should I do? Should I call the doctor?”

“Drive me to the hospital.” Nicky got out and went around the car to the passenger’s side.

Andy wiped his hands on his pants. “You sure?”

“Let’s go,” Nicky yelled.

Andy jumped in. “You going to make it there?” Andy said as he backed out.

“I hope so.” Nicky breathed rapidly, unable to talk. “That was rough,” she finally said. “If we don’t make it, you’ll be the first person this baby sees.”

“Hang on.” Andy shifted rapidly through the gears.

“Shit.”

“What?” Andy said.

“These ribs, they’re for Barbara. I don’t want them to spoil.”

“Forget the ribs. Keep breathing.”

A few minutes later, Andy parked at the emergency room and led Nicky in. “Nurse, we need some help here. She’s having a baby!”

“Are you the husband?”

“No, ma’am,” Andy said.

“Are you the father?”

“There’s no father,” Nicky said, “no husband. He’s my friend.”

“There’s always a father,” the nurse said, looking cross at Andy and sounding more irritated than concerned.

By the time Andy found Barbara, it was clear that Nicky was not in labor. She had gas. Happens a lot to first timers, the nurses told her.

“Where were you all day?” Barbara said. “I called you.”

“The ribs!” Nicky said, slipping on her shoes. “I’ve got to get the ribs from my car before they spoil.”

“What ribs?”

“From Bub’s,” Nicky said, shifting her weight. “Let’s go home.”

“I’ll walk you out, but my shift isn’t over.”

Inside the elevator Nicky said, “I was craving ribs and I went to Richmond and I had one on the ride home. Okay, I had a few, and all of a sudden, I had these incredible pains. I was sure this baby was ready. Turned out to be some wicked gas. If childbirth is worse than what I just had, I’m not going to be able to do it.”

“You took Leroy?” Barbara asked.

“Let’s not talk about that in here,” Nicky said as the elevator doors opened. “You just have to try Bub’s ribs.”

“You said you wouldn’t go. We had an agreement, Nicky.”

“You had an agreement. You said I shouldn’t go. Anyway, I got ribs and slaw in the car. I’ll get you some beer on the way home and we’ll have dinner and talk then.”

“You put the baby at risk. Someone could have run you off the road. People are getting killed doing what you did.”