Under the Sassafras (19 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“Hi MaeMae, I've decided to spend the night with T-Boy. I think he needs me here.” Joelette could hear the exhaustion in her own voice. She twisted the phone cord as she listened to MaeMae.

“Are you alright?” MaeMae asked.

Joelette released a weak laugh. “I’ve been better, but I’ll be alright. What about you?” Joelette placed her head in the palm of her hand.

“I'll be fine. Don’t you worry about us,” MaeMae said.

She let out a moan and switched the receiver to the other ear. “Possum suggested that he stay over with you and Ozamae in case you need something.

“Is Ozamae okay?”

“He’s fine. Playing with those wooden animals.”

Joelette let out a sigh. “We’ll talk more tomorrow when T-Boy and I come home.” Joelette pushed her finger against her forehead and tried to make the dull headache go away. “Tell Ozamae I love him, and thank you.”

She moved in slow motion as if in a fog as she hung up the phone. Everything happened so fast, the wreck, the returned memory,
the goodbyes.

A woman walked toward her down the hall of the hospital with a camera crew behind her. “Mrs. Benoit, if I could have a moment of your time.”

“What is this about?” Joelette asked the woman she recognized from the local news station.

“We hoped you would grant us a short interview about your son and the accident. I promise it won't take long.”

Joelette released the breath she held and focused on the woman's smile. So sure of herself, you could tell she knew exactly what she wanted in life and how to make it happen.             

“What do you want to know?”

The woman motioned for the cameras to roll. She held a microphone in front of Joelette. “This is Ellie Evans with Channel Five coming live from Lafayette Memorial Hospital. Mrs. Joelette Benoit has agreed to answer a few questions about the awful school bus wreck on the Whiskey Bay Bridge.”

The camera pointed at Joelette, bright lights blinding her and then the microphone shot in front of her mouth. What had she agreed to do? Her head hurt, and her eyes blurred. Her mouth went dry.

“Mrs. Benoit, where were you when you heard about the bus accident?”

“What? Oh, at home with my younger son. Possum, I mean Mr. Sonnier, came and brought me to the hospital.”

“How is your son doing?”

Joelette smiled and thought she could do this for T-Boy. He would think being talked about on television cool. “T-Boy is doing much better, thank you. Are we on television now?”

“Yes, Mrs. Benoit. Just a few more questions if you don't mind.” Joelette watched as the small pink tongue of the reporter efficiently darted out of her mouth and moistened her lips. Her own lips felt dry and cracked.

“What can you tell us about the mystery man that saved your son along with the other children? How long has he been living with you and your family?”

“I don't have anything to say about him. His sister saw his interview on television and recognized him. He has regained most of his memory and they left today. He’s a good man. He saved my son's life. I wish him well.” Tears stung at the back of her eyes, and she knew she needed to seek refuge. “Excuse me, but I have to go check on my son now.” The reporter stilled Joelette's steps with more questions.

“Where is his home? Does he have a family?”

“Somewhere in California. Please, I need to go now. I know nothing about the man.”

Joelette turned and stumbled over the woman's foot and could hear her telling the camera the mystery man had returned home and she would keep the audience aware of any follow up information about the hero of Whiskey Bay Bridge.

She found T-Boy's hospital room and took hold of the door handle then bit her lip to force back the tears. Joelette straightened her stance, then opened the door and with a smile said, “How's my boy?”

“I’m okay. Is he gone?” T-Boy asked.

“Yes darling, he's gone.”

“I hate him,” he said as he sat up in bed his little fist clenched on the blanket.

Joelette stood beside T-Boy's bed and pushed back his hair from his forehead. His cheeks were still tear-stained and a worried frown covered his tiny brow. “No, T-Boy you can't hate him.”

T-Boy’s jaw jutted out at a stubborn angle. “I can hate him if I want.”

Her own emotions were so close to the surface, she had to take a moment. She couldn’t bear to let the love her son had once felt simmer into hate. “Think of all he did for us. He helped me get the field ready. Remember how he tutored you in math, and look at your grades now. He made you a gift you will always treasure. Think of the times he made us laugh. But the greatest gift he gave, to all of us, was when he saved your life. You can't hate him, T-Boy, he loved us.”

“But not enough to stay,” T-Boy said softly.

Joelette crawled into bed with T-Boy and held him in her arms. “Baby, he couldn't stay. You know that it wouldn't have been right for him to stay. He has a home and a family.” They lay in silence holding on to each other. T-Boy shifted and looked into Joelette's face.

“Do you think he'll ever come back?”

“I don't know baby, maybe he won't be able to, but you can write him if you want. He left his address.”

T-Boy picked up the knight that Joelette left on his bed, and turned it over in his hand. “Alright I won't hate him, but I don't think I'll write him, first anyway.” Joelette couldn’t hug T-Boy tight enough. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

Joelette let T-Boy show her how to play chess, as much as he remembered. “Maybe we can check out a book in the library on chess,” Joelette suggested.

“Can we on our way home tomorrow?”

“We'll see.” Standing up, she rubbed the back of her neck.

A nurse came in carrying a dinner tray. “Hello, Mrs. Beniot, I didn't know you were still here. Would you like a dinner tray?”

“Yes, please.” Joelette suspected her churning stomach would not accept food, but she had to eat, or at least try.

“Are you also spending a night?” The nurse asked when she returned with the tray.

“Yes, I thought my son and I could use a night away together.” Joelette winked at T-Boy, then laid her head back. 

“What's the matter, Mom?”

“I'm tired baby. I think I'll read a chapter to you from the book I brought and then turn in.”

“I'm kind of tired myself. Crying sure makes your eyes tired.”

“Yes it does. Let's not cry anymore tonight.” She gave him a squeeze. “Why not think of all the fun things we are going to do when we get home? You know you have a little brother that worships you, a grandmother who dotes on you and a mother that is so proud of you.”

Tomorrow, she would think about what she had to do to put this family back together.

###

“Mom, is that the place the bus went over?” T-Boy asked, straining his neck as they crossed the area on the other side of the bridge. Yellow tape marked the place.

“The bus didn't go over the bridge. Possum will be able to tell you more in detail.” Joelette still got sick in her stomach when she thought of that day. But she knew he would want to rehash every detail.

MaeMae and Ozamae met them at the truck and covered T-Boy with hugs and kisses.

“Wow, you have crutches. Do you get to keep them? I made decorations and MaeMae made cookies. Did you get a shot?” Ozamae bounced around T-Boy like a new puppy.

MaeMae put her arm around Joelette's waist and walked beside her. “You look tuckered out,
Cher
. Time will help. It always does.”

“I don't know if anything can help this time, but I do know I've let my guard down once too often.” Joelette smiled a weak smile and patted MaeMae's soft hand. “But we have our family back together. Let's celebrate.”

“Mrs. Broussard brought a tape of you on the news last night. You looked so pretty,” MaeMae said. “How's T-Boy? Is he still having dreams about the accident?”

“The doctor gave me some pills to give him before he goes to bed for the next couple of nights. He had one last night. He woke up screaming for Mansir not to leave him. I couldn't tell if it was about the wreck or just about him leaving. I just want all of this behind us, you know?”

MaeMae shook her head. “Come, sit, I'll get you some iced tea after I get the boys settled with their cookies and milk. Try not to think about anything. Just sit back and let the healing began.”

She’d lost a lot in her life, but this...this felt as if someone had severed one of her limbs. She watched the swaying of the moss. It was hypnotic.

Joelette felt the tension leave her body. Tomorrow, she would find out the cost of the hospital after insurance, and see if she had enough to pay or if she’d have to ask for a payment plan. Thank goodness for the insurance through the school, that would help.

MaeMae returned with the tea.

“How much do you think it will cost to hire someone to plow up my field and make the rows?” Joelette asked.

“Possum and I talked about that last night. He told me his cousin would do it for around two hundred dollars. He's sending him by tomorrow.”

Joelette smiled and took her eyes off the scenery. “He's a good friend. I'll call the hospital business office first thing in the morning. Once I know how much I owe them, I’ll know if I have anything left for the field.”

Everyone turned in early. Joelette tumbled out of bed and made her way through the darkened house to the living room. She turned the television volume low. Her eyes settled on the tape on top of the television. Joelette popped it in.

She watched in horror as the hollow-eyed woman talked on the news. Could she look more haggard? Joelette prided herself on looking neat. She didn’t have a lot of clothes but what she had was always clean and ironed. Not today. The light from the camera showed through her dress, revealing she had forgotten to put on a slip. Her hair stuck out in an unkempt way. And her country drawl came across the tube like some hick.

She looked like white trash.

Joelette watched it twice. The second time she tried to focus on the questions and answers. “Are we on television yet?” she’d drawled. People all over the Parish saw her, as she really was nothing more than a woman fresh out of the swamp.

She walked to the kitchen and made a cup of peppermint tea to settle her upset stomach. She removed the tape and threw it in the trash. Once again, she sat in front of the television and flipped through channels, her mind still on her embarrassing interview.

Joelette sipped her tea and settled on the news. Someone else's problems would help her take the focus off hers, she hoped.

A striking couple appeared on the screen holding hands. Joelette choked on her tea. Mansir. No, this man was not Mansir. The man staring back at her was William. The beautiful, put-together blond beside him must be his wife. As she turned up the volume she thought her heart would stop.

“That was the last picture taken of the “Golden Duo” before Mrs. Matherson met her death. With Mr. Matherson back home the funeral is being planned.

When asked where he’d been, he responded “no comment.” “We’ve had reports of you being taken in by a family in the swamps of Louisiana, do you have anything to say about them?” A young reported asked shoving the mike as close as he could.

“No comment. Now if there are no more questions, I have a early day tomorrow.”

His voice poured like warm honey over Joelette's soul. But he wasn’t hers. Even if his wife was dead. In a daze, she turned off the television and walked out onto the porch.

They had looked so regal. Filmed in front of a white mansion with large columns. He took her breath away standing there so tall and confident in his dark suit. His wife wore a shiny blue suit with an elegant cut. Her perfectly styled hair and dazzling smile complimented him. Joelette couldn’t help noticing that the lights from the camera revealed nothing but the blonde's poise and grace.

She cried until her eyes ran dry, and then went to bed. But her thoughts still haunted her.

They were from different worlds
.

Did you and your sister have a good laugh about the little woman from the swamp gathering herbs and playing her fiddle as she sang A Paper in My Shoe?

The last thing Joelette remembered thinking before the exhaustion overtook her and she slept was Mansir’s voice saying “Goodbye.” It was her first thought upon waking too.

A soft knock on her bedroom door startled her.

“Joelette, are you awake? Possum and his cousin are here. Do you want to talk to them?”

Joelette forced her eyes open to find MaeMae standing at the foot of her bed.

Part of her wanted to pull the covers back over. But Possum was a friend and no matter what else, he was here to help.

“Yes, I want to talk to them. Work has to be done. Ask them to wait a few moments.” Joelette ran to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

Somehow, she would make all of this work.

###

Marion was dead. And Tony had killed her.

Guilt flooded William’s whole body. If he’d never left but stayed and tried to settle things would she still be alive and would Tony be free?