“Darn straight you will, or I’m shutting you down. Maybe even put you on quarantine. I’ve already had three phone calls.”
“Anything new to report on Bonnie’s aunt?”
“It’s only been four hours since I talked to you.”
“Just wondering.”
“Perhaps you need to spend less time wondering and pay more attention to what goes on out there.”
“Thanks for calling.”
P
eter started working at the lumber mill the following Monday, “getting out of our hair,” he said. But it was excitement that shone on his face when he picked up the lunch I promised to have ready.
Ludi spent two full days scrubbing Fiona’s cottage with Clorox. One morning, having run out of things to do, she reorganized the washhouse. After lunch, I sat with her on the back steps sipping sweet tea and fanning away the heat. When she’d cooled off, she mentioned Fiona’s car.
“My man said he be lookin’ up and down the bayou for it, tracin’ every place it might have run off the road. Nothin’. He says it wouldn’t be the first vehicle swallowed by the bayou. Place or two is mighty deep.”
“I was hoping it might give us some clues. Registration papers or some of their belongings. Tell Mr. Harper I appreciate his looking.”
She nodded and we got to work, falling into our own rhythms. When I wasn’t busy with the girls, I devoured the infantile paralysis section in
The Book of Knowledge
. I knew every symptom by heart, observing the girls for the slightest bit of headache or fever and secretly did the chin touch myself. No one was immune. And no one could predict who the next victim would be.
In the gentle haze of evening, we all played games of horseshoes and ate whatever Malcolm caught in the bayou that morning. Like a well-oiled machine we went through our duties and our days waiting. And waiting.
For what, none of us knew.
Sweat shone on Catfish’s ebony back as he pushed the reel mower across the grass. Peter had sharpened the blades, and Catfish had begged to be in charge of pushing it. It was only ten in the morning, but already the sun bore down, wilting us and everything in its wake.
As Rosey watered the flowers the Magnolias planted, Ludi and I trailed behind her, pulling dandelions and henbit from the moistened earth. Every time he passed by Rosey, Catfish stopped and took a slurp from the garden hose.
Just as we finished, Mary Frances emerged from her cottage, dressed in a new pale green shirtwaist and strappy sandals.
I straightened and wiped the sweat from my brow. “You’re just in time for lunch.” I turned to the others. “Get washed up, and I’ll get out the egg salad and lemonade.”
Mary Frances snapped her handbag open and pulled out a lace hankie. “None for me, thanks. Malcolm is meeting me here for lunch.”
“My gracious, you two are getting to be regulars down at Ruby’s Café.”
“Can’t beat a good chicken-fried steak. Except today’s Wednesday. We might try the meat loaf special.”
“Better than egg salad, for sure.”
“Oh, there’s Malcolm now.”
I waved as the two of them left. The banishment from town apparently applied to me and Bonnie only, as I hadn’t been getting any more warning calls from the sheriff.
While Ludi and the kids returned the tools to the shed, I went in to start lunch and check on the girls. Merciful met me, hands on her hips, the spitting image of Ludi in miniature.
“Those girls won’t stop their fussin’. They both wanna be the momma, and I’m plumb wore out hearin’ them.”
Avril poked her head around Merciful, a blanket shoved under her shirt to look like she was expecting. Bonnie had introduced the game when they were playing with their dolls. Now she came up behind Avril and snatched the blanket from under her shirt.
“It’s my mommy who’s gonna have a baby, and when she comes back, she’ll bring the baby.”
Avril squinted her eyes at me. “Is she right, Momma?”
“Sort of, sweetheart. Bonnie, your momma left because she was sick. Remember? She can’t come back until she gets well.” I had no idea how I would tell her the baby might not even have a chance. Dealing with an absent mother was worry enough.
A vacant look came in Bonnie’s eyes. “But she’s coming back?”
My stomach knotted. The truth might rupture her world beyond repair. I pulled her into my arms, remembering my own childish hope that my parents would return for me. My adult self told me Aunt Cora had been sparing my feelings that my parents didn’t want me, but the child in me needed to know. I could have wrestled with the truth and moved on.
I kissed her cheek. “I pray every night that she will.”
The next week three more people in Mayhaw contracted polio. Some people blamed the heat. Some blamed it on dairy products—Brookshire’s had hundreds of bottles of milk go sour on their shelves for lack of sales. And some people blamed the Stardust. Understandable, but when none of the victims had a connection to me or places we’d been in town, they looked to other sources. Life dragged on, but fear was as thick as the muddy waters of the bayou.
It was a relief to be insulated as we were, confined almost. But Bonnie worried me. My attempts to draw her into conversation about her relatives only made her cry for her mother. I thought if she saw Fiona, it might help. It was the least I could do.
Doc was up to his ears with work, but for Bonnie’s sake I called him one afternoon. He seemed surprised to hear from me. “I didn’t figure the child was still with you. It’s been nearly three weeks.”
“Sheriff Bolander and the March of Dimes are working to find her kinfolk. But in the meantime, I think it might help Bonnie if I took her to the hospital to see her mother. Do you know if that’s allowed?”
He said he would check.
The next day, I got two phone calls, the first from Aunt Cora.
“Hon, I thought I’d let you know we’ve located an aunt and uncle in Arkansas. Theodora and Elmer Benning. The woman sounded confused, but when I finally made myself clear, she apologized. Said she couldn’t come as her husband’s been in the hospital with hernia surgery.”
“Did she sound nice? Like she would be comforting and loving?”
“I couldn’t tell. She said she’d think about it. I gave her the information and asked her to come at her earliest convenience. I do hope she comes before the Mayhaw Festival. I’ve already penciled you and Rosey in for the talent show.”
“I didn’t suppose the festival was still on, with the public being so afraid of getting polio.”
“It’s more important than ever. I met with Mayor Sheldon this morning. People are afraid, but more than that, they want to know what they can do to help. Even your pal Bobby Carl has a celebrity talent lined up for a special concert to benefit the March of Dimes.”
I snorted. “My pal?”
“He’s always had a crush on you.”
“So are you wanting to fix me up with him now that he’s working with celebrities?” I shuddered.
Aunt Cora sniffed, unamused, and I told her to let me know if she heard any more from Mrs. Benning.
I’d no more than hung up when a physician from the Tyler hospital called me. “Dr. Kelley said you called about Mrs. Callahan.”
“Yes. Her daughter’s been staying with me, and the poor child is afraid her mother won’t be coming back.”
“Understandable. Mrs. Callahan is still in guarded condition in the iron lung. She has both bulbar and spinal polio, which is not unheard of, but often these patients don’t survive. I believe she has out of sheer will to live and for the child she carried.”
“Carried? She lost the baby?”
“On the contrary. We took the baby by cesarean to ease the strain on her back. Healthy six-pound boy.”
I did a quick calculation in my head. Yes, it was possible. Fiona could have been further along than I thought. I felt a little dizzy. Would I be able to tell if it was O’Dell’s child?
“Is he okay? Does he have… I guess I don’t know much about these things. Is he in danger?”
“We don’t observe any signs of polio in him, if that’s what you mean. He’s quite the pet in the nursery.”
“I’m sure. So what will happen with him?”
“That’s a matter of concern. We’d hoped that a relative might come forward, but there haven’t been any visitors.”
An uneasy rumble came in my gut. The baby was Bonnie’s brother. “What options are there?”
“Foster care is a possibility. Or a children’s home. He’s not a candidate for adoption since his mother can’t give her consent in her condition. Best course would be for a relative to take temporary custody. You say you have Mrs. Callahan’s older child? Are you related?”
“I’m not. I’m just keeping her until someone comes for her. We’ve been able to locate an aunt and uncle in Arkansas, but no arrangements have been made.”
“We hadn’t heard this.” The line fell silent, and I thought perhaps we’d been disconnected, but then the doctor cleared his throat. “We’ll try to do what’s best for the infant.”
A million images flashed through my head. Bonnie and her brother together. The two of them separated. Me with a newborn propped on my hip while I greeted clients at the Stardust.
What’s best for the infant.
“I suppose I could care for him until the relatives came.”
“It’s a lot to ask. I wouldn’t—”
“I’d have to consult with a few people here. I don’t know.”
“It is something to consider. We’ll be releasing the baby from the hospital next week.”
“Next week? So soon.”
“We’re a hospital, not an orphanage.” Although the words were cruel, the doctor’s tone was kind, caring.
“I’ll let you know. What I actually called about was to see if I could bring Bonnie to see her mother.”
“How old is the child?”
“Four.”
“She’s a little young. Seeing a loved one in an iron lung can be quite startling, but it often helps the patient to see family members. What day were you planning to come?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Excellent. How about next Monday? By then we’ll know if you’ve decided to take the infant as well. We could have the paperwork ready and let you take him that day.”
My head spun with the details, the what-ifs. My arms grew numb, and when I hung up, I felt as though I’d run a thousand miles. What would I say to Mary Frances? The child was most likely O’Dell’s. Should I even tell her? I hated to tip her world off balance again.
She was only one consideration. There were my girls. The Stardust. Aunt Cora would be beside herself. And me? Could I handle a baby?
Maybe this was what we’d all been waiting for. I picked up the phone and called Hugh Salazar. He could draw up the appropriate documents and steer me through these dark waters.