The Matchmaker's Medium (5 page)

“Not at first. She was just standin’ there. That’s why I thought she was just doing her normal thing, checkin’ in on me or what have you.”

“Is that what she usually did?”

“Yeah. Just lookin’ at me, smilin’ a little, like she was glad I was doin’ all right.”

“Is that what she did while she was still alive?”

“Pretty much. She was a quiet lady, real nice and all. Granddaddy was the one who talked a lot, tellin’ all these stories all the time. I don’t think I take after granddaddy’s side of the family at all. They never know when to shut up.”

Jamal suddenly plopped down into one of the chairs, he was laughing so hard. I couldn’t help but smile a little, with his deep laughter echoing in my ears. Victoria wasn’t as amused, though.

“Is something
funny
?” she asked, her giant face turning an interesting shade of maroon.

“What? Oh, no, no. Sorry. I was thinking about my great uncle, who talked all the time.”

She seemed to calm a little, her face slowly returning to its original, splotchy white-and-pink color.

“Well, that’s about it for the first day, I guess,” she said, dabbing at her forehead again.

“She didn’t come back that night?”

“Nope. Just stood there for a few minutes while I was puttin’ the groceries away, then she was gone the next time I looked up. I didn’t see her again till the next night.”

“And then she—”

“That’s when she started the whole ridiculous charades game.”

“What does she do when she ‘plays charades’?”

“Like I said before, she acted like she had the steerin’ wheel in her hands, then a big
crash
thing.”

“I thought you said she only did that last night?”

“Did I?” she asked, looking genuinely confused. “Well, maybe I was wrong. Could be, she maybe started doin’ it that second night after the accident. I’m not rightly sure, now.”

This is like digging for treasure in swampland,
I thought.
How do I always end up in these situations?

“Does she ever come to you anywhere else? Or just the kitchen?”

“Oh, lord, yes. She comes to me in my room, or out on the porch, even in the laundry room, one time. She ain’t shy about
where
she shows up. Just shy about
sayin’
anything. Or maybe she
can’t
say anything? I never thought of that before. Whatta
you
think, Amber?” She started to get off the couch, but couldn’t quite seem to get the energy or momentum. After a few tries, flailing her arms a little in the process, she finally gave up and leaned back into the cushions.
I am
really
going to the gym tonight, now. No matter what else happens. Ugh.

“I think you’re right. She probably can’t talk or make any noise. Most of the spirits I see can’t, either. Only a few
special
spirits can be heard.”

Of course, Jamal picked this moment in time to wander closer, excitedly pointing to himself, as if to say,
Me! Me! I’m special!

“You can actually
hear them?
” Victoria asked, totally amazed by the concept.

“Yep.”

“Well, what do they
say
to you?”

I shrugged, “It’s different every time. Some of them want me to help them, but others are trying to help
me
. It just depends, I guess.”

“Are there any spirits…
here?
” she asked, motioning to the room, her eyes wide with anticipation.

I looked over at Jamal, who was suddenly very adamant that he was
not
in the room.
Now you want to be invisible?
I asked him silently. He nodded, big up-and-down bobbing movements, almost cartoonish.
Oh, fine,
I thought. He sighed in relief.

“No, not right now.”

“Oh.” Her disappointment was palpable, and almost a little funny, in a sad-funny kind of way. Not ‘haha’ funny, but ‘aww’ funny.

“So what’s next?” she asked.

“For what?”

“Like, do we hold a séance or something? Ask my grandmamma to come and talk to you?”

“No, I don’t need to do a séance. If she were here, I could just talk to her like you and I are talking right now.”

“And you’re
sure
she’s not here? She didn’t, maybe, follow me?”

I chuckled a little. “No, she’s not here. And, yes, I’m sure.”

“Well, can you look for her? Can you ask her to come here? I need to know what she’s trying to tell me. She looked so worried! D’you think she’s trying to warn me about something? Oh, lord, what if it’s the dia-beetis? Or the big C? Oh, lord, oh, Jesus!”

“Calm down, Victoria. If it were that serious, she’d be here right now, trying to get my attention. Since she’s not here, it must not be too important.”

She sighed loudly, visibly relieved.

“Maybe you could just go home and rest, and call me if she appears to you again tonight?”

“I s’pose that would be all right. But first, I have to call the body shop and see if my car’s fixed yet. I can’t have the taxi totin’ me all over the place, and I’m not payin’ for no danged renter car, neither!”

Jamal stood and walked to Victoria, looking at her with new interest.

“Which shop?” he asked, pointing from me to Victoria,
Ask her
.

Rolling my eyes, I asked, “Which shop is your car at, Victoria?”

“Oh, it’s over to that Spanish fella’s place, down 49. Y’know, that one where it has the big sign about replacing your window-shield for free? I used ‘em once, when I got a e-
normous
crack in mine, from a rock spit out by a semi. They just called my in-shurnse and I didn’t have to pay one red
cent
!”

Jamal said, “She needs to tell you more.”

What? Why?

“Just keep her talking.”

I’m gonna kill you for this,
I thought. Wait.
I mean—hell, you know what I mean.

He just laughed again.
Glad I’m keeping you entertained, Jamal.

He gave me the thumbs-up signal.
Jerk.

“How long did they say it would be?”

“Hmm? Oh, they said it should be done today, but I already stopped there before I came here, and it wasn’t ready, yet. So
rude
when folks tell you a time, then don’t stick to it. I tell ya, it’s the
times
we’re livin’ in, that’s what it is. Ever-body livin’ in
sin
, and nobody takin’ responsi
bility
, that’s what it is.

“Who’s your mechanic?”

“Some fella—Eric, Elmer, Ennis—no, wait!
Esteban!
That’s it.”

Jamal
froze
. “Who did she say?”

Esteban,
I thought,
what are you, deaf?

“No
way
,” he whispered, his mouth dropping open at the end.
What the hell?

“He’s the same fella did my window-shield. He’s a Yankee, from up New York way.”

Haha. I don’t think I’ll
ever
get used to hearing one of us northerners referred to as a ‘Yankee’.

“All right, well, I’ll be goin’ now,” she said, starting the arduous process of heaving herself over, up, and off the couch. It was kind of like watching a whale un-beach itself; revolting and mesmerizing, all at once. I was tempted to help her, or even
offer
to help her, but I could easily imagine how
that
conversation would turn out.

Instead, I said, “Let me walk you out.”

“No, no, I can find the door on my own. Just need to call that dern
taxi
fella, again. He’s reliable, but he’s slow as molasses in the winter.” Finally freed of the couch cushions, she straightened her shirt and pants, smoothed her hair flat, dabbed at her upper lip again. “I’ll call ya if grandmamma comes tonight. You want I should call you right after? Or should I wait till mornin’?”

If you call me in the middle of the night, I think I just might take a short walk off the nearest cliff.

“No, you can just wait till tomorrow.”

“All right, then. Thanks again, Amber,” she said, pushing some buttons on her ‘cellular’. As I shut the door behind her, I could hear her yelling into the phone, “Hello? Hello? Rod-ree-go? I’m ready for ya, now!”
God bless poor Rod-ree-go,
I thought, trying not to laugh again.

I walked back into the room, almost plopped onto the couch, then stopped myself when I saw the huge sweat stains where Victoria had been sitting.

“Gross! It looks like she took a bath and sat here to dry off!” I yelled, pointing at the couch, just in case Jamal hadn’t seen the whole thing.

“That’s one
big
lady,” he replied. “How you think she gets herself
clean?
”

I shuddered. “Thanks a lot for the
visual
.”

“Sorry.”

I walked over to the coffee pot, saw it was empty, looked at my coffee cup and saw it looked the same.

“Is the coffee evaporating?”

“Seriously? Girl, you know you drink it all. Who else do you think it was?
Me?
” he asked, giggling at his own joke.

“Ha-ha, very funny, you’re
such
a comedian,” I said, grabbing the empty coffee decanter and walking to the sink. “What was all that about, anyway? Why did you want to know more about the mechanic?”

“Esteban. He’s someone who….came up, before.”

“Really? How did he come up?”

“Others told me about him.”

“Why? Is he a killer or something?”

“You always think someone’s a killer. You
know
that’s warped, right?”

“Jamal, the world has changed a bit since your time. We all watch crime shows, cop shows, investigation shows, hell, the average person watching TV knows more about solving crimes than some of the
cops
did back in your day.”

“You know, ‘my day’ wasn’t
that
long ago.”

I snorted, “Ha! Okay, tell yourself whatever you need to.” I brought the water-filled decanter back to the machine, poured it in, and spilled about half of it all over my papers. “Dang it!”

I set the pot back in its cradle, grabbed some paper towels, and tried to clean up the mess. Mostly, I just made it worse.

“You could offer to help, you know.”

“Why offer? We both know I can’t actually
do
anything to help you with it.”

“Because. It’s common courtesy, that’s why.”

“You ladies are a
riot!
” He walked away, shaking his head.

After I finished cleaning up, I sat back at my desk, twirling my pen. “Do I need to talk to Esteban to help Victoria’s grandmother go away?”