Hometown Legend (14 page)

“Daddy,” Rachel said slowly, as if she knew she was about to embarrass me, “they found this diver-whatever with a probe.”

“Okay …” I said.

Kim turned and walked into the waiting room. I looked to Rachel as if to ask what I’d done. Rachel shrugged. “They made some
kind of a mistake. The scope punctured her colon.”

The place was getting to me again, and that news didn’t help. I needed to sit down, so I stumbled into the waiting room where
Kim looked up from praying. I wished she’d pray for me. I didn’t want to talk to her and was glad to see Rachel had followed
me in. She sat next to me and took my hand.

Kim stood and stared down at me. “This is not about you, Calvin. Whatever you’re feeling, Bev is fighting for her life. I’m
surprised you thought her worth the trip.”

How could Kim know what I was feeling when I didn’t? She had lost her dad, but would she remember what my Estelle had died
of? I didn’t know if somebody whose doctor had poked through her colon was supposed to live or die. How did they treat diverticulitis
and an injury like that at the same time?

I hadn’t figured out yet why I’d felt so panicky when I heard the news. Was it cause here was another woman in my life with
a problem in the same part of her body? Or
was
I being selfish, worried how I’d get along at the office without Bev? Ah, it was more than that. I had to know whatever I
could know and do whatever I had to do to make sure she would be all right.

“Has the doctor talked to you?” I said. “Either of you?”

“Not for a while,” Rachel said. “I’ll see if I can find him.”

“Leave him alone,” Kim said. “Let him do his work.”

“I won’t keep him from his work, Miz Kim,” she said, an edge in her voice.

“Feeling guilty?” Kim said when Rachel had gone.

“You’re doing your best to make me feel that way.”

“Calvin, there are no secrets in this town. Bev falls ill, you run her home—surprise of all surprises—and you’re back to the
office in time to stay on schedule. You have somebody else take her her car or she might have died in her own house. You come
by here when you find out— another shocker—but again it was fortunate for Bev you were between commitments.”

“I do have commitments.”

“To a class and football practice, both of which would have survived without you.”

I stood. “She didn’t need me, Kim! What could I have done here?”

She shook her head. “You don’t get it. After all those years of serving you, she wouldn’t even ask that you sit with her a
few hours. Did either she or you know what was wrong with her when you left?”

“They hadn’t injured her yet, if that’s what you mean. She said they were running tests. I couldn’t have stopped whatever
happened.”

“Calvin! Listen to yourself. If you were Bev, wouldn’t you have felt better knowing someone was standing with you, would be
there when you got your test results? No, she couldn’t have known something would go wrong, but it would have had to make
her feel better to know someone was here with her.”

“She told me to go.”

“And you were glad to. I’ll bet you couldn’t get out of here fast enough. Did you even think to call me?”

“It crossed my mind. But I know you’re busy.”

“Not as busy as you, apparently. Calvin, she’s my dearest friend. She stood with me for
years
, asking nothing while my father slowly died. You think I wouldn’t have taken a personal day to sit with her a few hours?”

What could I say? I hadn’t even known how much
I
cared for Bev until a few minutes before. Kim was not the person to tell.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I should have called you.”

“More important, you should have stayed with her from the minute she started feeling bad. It should have been obvious this
wasn’t her period or the flu.”

I nodded. “Maybe I learned something,” I said.

“I would love to think so.”

“Give me a break, Kim,” I said. “You want me to learn from this or don’t you?”

She stood and moved to the window where she stared out into the darkness. “Maybe I’ve given up on you after all this time.”

“After all what time?”

“All the years Bev has invested in you and you’ve been oblivious.”

“There’s that word again. Well, if I’m oblivious to one loyal worker, I’m probably oblivious to a lot of them.”

Kim turned to face me. “That’s not your reputation. People love you, Cal. You’ve had to make some tough decisions, but they
forgive you because they trust you and admire you.”

“Everybody but Bev.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“She feels the same about you that everybody else does.”

Where was that doctor? “So you’re the only one who knows I’m a phony?”

“I didn’t say that either.”

“I wish you’d tell me what you’re saying, Kim. I’m feeling pretty beat up here.”

“Poor Cal,” she said. “All right, sit down and listen.” I did. “Here’s what happened. I was going to be late meeting up with
Bev the night she got sick, and when I called to tell her, Ginny-somebody from your office told me what had happened. When
I got here she had come back from the colonoscopy. Over the next several hours she had some pain and some bleeding, which
I was told were not uncommon. But then she developed a high fever and wouldn’t eat. Her pulse went up and her blood pressure
down.

“The doctor kept telling me this could still be a diverticulitis flare-up, but when she became nauseated and her abdomen tender,
he had to start paying attention. Next time he examined her, her abdomen was rigid and hard and I heard him tell someone there
were nearly no bowel sounds. I asked a nurse what that meant, and she said infection and inflammation must have spread.”

“From this divertic—”

“Well, they thought it was something called peritonitis and they did some kind of a CAT scan or something and found air in
the abdomen. Calvin, she was lying there with her knees flexed and her breathing short like the pain was excruciating.”

“Oh, man!”

“They did a quick exploratory surgery and discovered the hole in the colon. I knew they were upset by how long they feared
she had infectious material in there.”

I sat shaking my head. “Well, thanks for telling me, anyway, Kim.” She just walked out.

• • •

Guess by now you can tell I’m not what you’d call self-analytical. I was sitting there trying to pray and more clueless than
ever about what was going through my brain. The waiting room was far enough from the patient rooms that I ought not to have
been bothered by the smells, but my nose must have a memory. The place was making me sick, but no way was I gonna walk out
on Bev. For one thing, I wanted to know from the doctor exactly what was going on, and besides, Kim was right. This wasn’t
about me.

I don’t like flower shops either cause I can’t shake the memory of the smell at Estelle’s funeral. But I know I’m not alone
in that and you can’t live your life avoiding normal places just because you took one in the chops years ago at a place that
reminds you of this one. I mean, the smells just brought back bad memories. It wasn’t like they were as bad as a locker room
or even the Chicago cowhide plant I’d been to so many times. I had to decide to put up with the hospital smell. There was
enough to think about without dwelling on Estelle, and I told myself she’d want me to think about her in heaven anyway, not
in a hospital bed.

Rachel finally dragged the doctor into the waiting room, and that brought Kim back too. He looked apologetic. “Like I was
telling the young lady, I can give you a general update because you are apparently her closest support group here, but as
for a specific diagnosis or prospects for recovery, I’d need her permission to share that with other than blood relatives.”

I was glad to see Kim turn her guns on somebody besides me. “We already know about the diverticulitis,” she said. “And we
know about the malpractice too, so—”

“Now, ma’am,” the doctor said, “if you’re going to take that tone and go that route, you’re going to find me unable to say
anything. We have acknowledged our responsibility for a procedural error, but—”

“That’s a nice way to put it. Some bozo turns an early-caught case of diverticulitis into a life-threatening situation, and—”

“So,” the doctor said, “you’d rather talk with our attorney than with me.”

“No,” Kim said. “Trust me, Beverly is not the type to file suit regardless, so—”

“Oh,
that
will put our counsel’s mind at ease. ‘Her friend says she won’t sue us.’”

“Okay, truce,” Kim said. “Her parents are elderly and live in Virginia. If they can afford the flights, they might be here
late tomorrow. In the meantime—”

“Kim,” I said, “that’s not an issue. Soon as we’re done here, you tell em to book the next flight they can and American Leather
will cover it. We’ll even have someone pick em up in Mobile.”

“You’re American Leather?” the doctor said. “I thought I recognized you.” He shook my hand.

Kim said, “Why, thank you, Calvin. I’ll call them right now.”

When she left I appealed to my new friend. “Doc, Bev’s worked for me for more than ten years and she’s like family. It didn’t
skip past me what you said there about prospects for recovery. Now I gotta know if that’s just words you use or if you’re
saying there’s some question about her even making it.”

He pressed his lips together and stared at the ceiling. Then he glanced at Rachel and back at me. “My daughter,” I said.

“The next forty-eight hours are crucial,” he said, sighing. I felt that feeling of panic again. “We’re keeping her in intensive
care so we can keep an eye out for complications.”

“She could die is what you’re telling me.”

“We certainly hope not and we don’t expect that.”

“But it could happen.”

“It could. Now, if you’ll excuse me …”

I dropped back down into a chair. At least with Estelle we’d known she was dying; we just hadn’t known when. I reached for
Rachel’s hand and she sat with me again. “Prayer changes things,” I said. “We can at least do that.”

“I prayed for Mama,” she said.

I looked at her. “You know she’s better off.”

She nodded. “I’m not gonna quit praying, Daddy, but I’m not gonna pretend we always get the answers we want. I’m praying for
the school, for the town, for Elvis. You know I’m gonna pray for Miz Bev. You should’ve told me yesterday. I’ve been praying
for her ever since I heard.”

“How
did
you hear?”

“Kim.”

“I didn’t even know you knew Kim.”

“Daddy! Everybody knows Kim. She was my Sunday school teacher once.”

“Mine too.”

“I know.”

“But why would she call you?”

She let go of my hand and ran her fingers through her hair. “Cause Bev and I’ve been doing stuff together.”

“Stuff?”

“Going places. Doing things.”

“That’s where you’ve been?”

“A lot of the time.”

“You didn’t think I’d want to know that?”

“She didn’t know what you’d think.”

I squinted at Rachel. “What were you doing that neither of you thought I ought to know?”

“Volunteer stuff.”

“All right,” I said, “I want more’n one sentence at a time. What’re you talking about?”

She sighed. “Everybody loves Bev, right?”

I nodded.

“She visited the youth group one Sunday night last spring. She was just telling us her story, you know, how she was raised
in a good Christian home but had to choose Jesus for herself.”

“Just like you.”

“Just like anybody. That’s what got my attention anyway. She told us how when she got out of high school and started working
at the factory, she kinda drifted. From the Lord, I guess.”

“I don’t remember that. What was she doing?”

“Nothing bad. Just kinda being a Sunday Christian is what she called it. Going to church but not really thinking about it
the rest of the week. Not wanting people to know she was a Christian, that kinda stuff.”

“I think everybody goes through that,” I said.

“That’s what she said. And she was trying to keep us from it. She said that even though she didn’t do anything terrible, she
felt like she wasted a lot of years before she really gave herself to God. She went on some kind of a college and career group
thing and heard a guy talking about choosing up sides, making a commitment, deciding whether you’re in or out. It just got
to her somehow. She started really feeling nervous when he talked about being a Secret Service Christian, kinda covering your
bases by believing the right stuff and going to church, but keeping your identity private, you know.”

I nodded.

“Anyway, Daddy, she really put it to us. She said we were old enough to decide for ourselves whether we were really sincere,
and if we were, it ought to show. She asked for kids to raise their hands if they wanted to get serious and start acting out
their faith and making their lives count. A bunch of us raised our hands, but Miz Bev pushed even more. She said there were
all kinds of things we could be doing for God, even though we were busy. She told us there were people who needed stuff done
for em, old people who liked to be read to, sick people that needed visitors. I thought everybody got excited about it like
I did, cause so many of the kids looked like they were really listening. I didn’t expect to be the only one who actually started
going with her a lot.”

“Where?”

“Like she said, the old folks home, poor people’s houses, the rehab center.”

“In Fairhope?”

Rachel raised her eyebrows and nodded.

Kim rejoined us. “Bev’s parents will be here mid-morning tomorrow,” she said, “thanks to you. Really, Calvin, that was—”

“Can we stay with her?” I said.

“Close by.”

“What shift you want?”

Kim looked surprised. “I’ll take first,” she said. “You take Rachel home and get some rest, and then you can be here when
Bev’s parents arrive.”

I got their information and left a message for Ginny to have someone pick em up and get em to the hospital. I told Kim I’d
spell her at dawn. I couldn’t believe how exhausted I was.