Under the Sassafras (4 page)

The truck tires bumped over a small rise in the payment and they drove onto a bridge that went on for miles
.

“
That's Whisky Bay. It leads into the Atchafalaya River, then the Mississippi down to the Gulf of Mexico.”

“You love this place, don't you?” Mansir asked.

“
Yes, I do. From the moment Otis brought me here, I was in awe of the silent beauty. The land is so ready to give. Of course, like everywhere, people are greedy. Too many man-made canals were dug so the large companies could access the oil. The Basin is losing land each year.” She moved forward in the seat and pointed low in the sky. “Look, there, an eagle. They nest all along the Basin.”

Mansir twisted his neck and leaned over
—almost touching her head—to view the eagle. “Wow,” he said in a whisper. “How do you know so much about this place if you were not raised here?”

“
When I moved here from north Louisiana and saw the surroundings and met the people, I had to know all about my new home. So I checked out books from the library.”

“
How do people make a living here? It looks so desolate.”

“
We don't need much. We live a simple life with modest means. The swamps give us plenty of seafood and fowl, and the land's rich and fertile for growing just about anything.” Everyone helps each other, like people did in the beginning.” Joelette shook her head and muttered, “Sometimes it’s like time has stood still here in
Bon Amie
.”

She turned off the main road
and the truck backfired with a puff of black smoke. They drove onto the downtown street. Joelette pointed to the storefronts. “Anything look familiar?”

“The town seems like any small town I’ve been in, but nothing stands out to me,” he said.

Joelette slowed the truck down to twenty-five as she turned onto the main street. There was Potters, the clothing store, which butted up to the discount dollar store, which butted up to an office building. Both sides of the street were filled with Mom and Pop stores, and a sprinkle of chain stores. She parked in front of an old stately Victorian house with a sign that read ‘Dr. Adams,’ Joelette turned off the truck.

“
Here we are,” she announced. “Old Dr. Adams has been MaeMae's family doctor for years. He delivered T-Boy.” She stepped out of the car. “Things went too fast for Ozamae. MaeMae delivered him. Ready?” Lord have mercy, but she rambled sometimes.

CHAPTER FIVE

Mansir's heart beat faster and his hand
s shook as he grabbed the door handle. It was cold to the touch, much as the ice water running through his veins. “The sooner I know what's going on, the sooner I can fix the problem.” His legs trembled as he walked into the doctor’s office.

Dr. Adams sported a short rotund body with a
tuft of white hair on either side of his head. His eyes filled with concern and humor. He appeared to be in his sixties. He extended his hand to Mansir for a shake, his grip strong. “Have a seat, young man. Boy, they grow them tall where you come from.” He didn't wait for an answer; instead he turned his attention to Joelette. “My, my, you sure get prettier every day.”

Joelette related the story of finding Mansir to the doctor who listened, never taking his eyes off of Mansir
.

When she was finished, Dr. Adams took Joelette's hand
. “I think this young man and I have a few things to discuss. This exam will take a little while. Don't you have something to do in town?”

“
Yes I do,” she said, her face flush with relief. She headed for the door. “I'll be back after I make a delivery to the health food store.” Her speech quickened as she turned the knob.

A slow spreading cold sweat seeped through Mansir
.
Alone
. He realized her familiar face calmed him.

“
Okay son, let's see what is going on in your head.” Dr. Adams smiled reassuringly.

The
doctor checked his vitals, then the discolored lump on his forehead. “Looks like MaeMae used one of her poultices on you.” He nodded. “That helped. You have virtually no swelling.”

He ran
several tests and a couple of x-rays, and then asked what seemed like a million questions. Finally he was led to the doctor's office.

Mansir inhaled
, the smell of medication and lemon oil mixed together.

“
You’re in good physical health, but there is a problem we need to discuss.” Dr. Adams excused himself to retrieve something from the other room. Mansir waited for the bad news.

“
The nurse said Doc wants to talk to both of us,” Joelette said as she walked into the office and slid into the chair beside Mansir.

Dr. Adams came in and shut the door behind him and leaned on his old wooden desk cluttered with papers
. He removed his small half glasses, and cleaned them with a tissue. He perched his glasses on the end of his nose and searched Mansir's face. The doctor seemed to be weighing his words.  

“
There is no way to sugar coat this, and I suspect you’d not want it any way but straight. You have a form of amnesia called retrograde.”

The doctor picked up a small paperweight and turned it over and over in his hand
. “Your amnesia was more than likely caused by that blow to your head and perhaps some emotional trauma. In most cases, amnesia is temporary, but in a few cases it can be permanent. There's no way to know which way your case will go. You could wake up tomorrow and remember everything or you could start to remember bits and pieces of your life.”

Mansir tried to process what the doctor told him and the things that were happening. His rigid back pressed against the straight back chair as he listened to the doctor.

Dr. Adams took a deep breath. “Or the worst case, you might never remember any of your past,” he said slowly, as if selecting his words carefully.

Dr. Adams' voice continued as if in a vacuum
. The words ran into each other, merging into a slow slur. Mansir tried to take a deep breath but it was as if someone had knocked all the air out of his lungs.

“
I can’t accept that Doc.” Mansir shook his head. “I refuse to believe that I'll never know who I am? Is there not a treatment? Pills, hypnosis, something?” He wiped the sweat as it rolled down his face. Mansir leaned forward in his seat and tried to focus. He cleared his throat and asked. “Tell me, Dr. Adams, is this the beginning of my life, or the end?”

“
I'm sorry, son. Your life is yours to make, one-way or the other. I can tell you there is no known treatment, but time. Sometimes skills come back, or you hear a voice and it reminds you of someone in your past or a smell, or touch.” He set the paperweight back down on his desk. “You'll just have to take it slow and be watchful for the pieces of your life to fit. The good news is you’re in perfect health otherwise, so though the lack of memory can understandably be distressing to you, it shouldn’t prevent you from living your life to its fullest.”

Mansir squared his shoulders
. His unsteady legs took him to the window across the room. He’d simply have to leave here and walk outside. Alone. How would he earn a living? Where would he live?

“
And just how do I begin this new life, Doc?” Mansir turned to face the doctor. He searched the doctor’s face for answers, but found nothing but compassion.

“
I could probably get you into the charity hospital in New Orleans or a half-way house.” Dr. Adams shifted his feet and looked between Mansir and Joelette. “But then I thought of another possibility.”

“
I wanted to talk to you, Joelette, about a possible short term solution, so hear me out.” Dr. Adams turned to her. “I know you and MaeMae could use a man's help around your place. Mansir needs a place to heal.” He watched Joelette take in the words slowly. “So what do you think?”

Joelette stood suddenly
. “No. No way. MaeMae and I do just fine. We don’t know this man, and besides we haven't needed a man since Otis died.”

“Joelette, think about what you’re saying. MaeMae is a healer, he’d be in good hands. And he could help with any physical labor you might have. He’s a strong man.” Dr. Adams winked at Mansir.

He felt awkward with the two of them discussing him this way. Though he hated to impose, right now Joelette and her family were the closest thing he had to his past. They were the ones who’d found him. “I am a hard worker,” he said. “At least I think I am.”

She shut her eyes, grabbed hold of the back of Mansir’s chair
. She took deep breaths. “How long are we talking about?”

“I really couldn’t say,” Dr. Adams said.

She paced the floor of the office and wrung her hands. Mansir knew the doctor had put her in an uncomfortable situation. He never wanted to be the reason this strong, beautiful woman was distressed.

“
Joelette, it's okay. You’ve already done enough. I'll find a job. Doing something.” He sat up straighter. “You're not responsible for me.”

Joelette surveyed his face
. “Where would you go? What would you do?” She released a heavy breath. “I’m sure MaeMae wouldn’t mind, and I could use some help with the idea I have for the Mamou Beans.” She held her hand up. “Give me a minute. Let me think.”

She sat
back down in the chair and drummed her fingers on her forehead. Joelette stared into Mansir's face.

He cocked his head to the side, waiting for what she’d say next. He would figure out a solution on his own, if he had to, but damn if he didn’t prefer to go home with this woman.

“Here's my offer,” she began. “Food and shelter in exchange for labor. If you prove to be lazy, then you leave. Simple as that. You are not my charity case.”

“
I assure you--”

“
Hear me out,” she interrupted. “I need someone to help me clear a field and I don't have the funds to hire anyone. So I can’t give you any money, but I can promise you a roof and good food. Do we have a deal?” With a heavy sigh, Joelette rolled her shoulders, and the tension left her face.

“Yes, it’s a deal.”

She turned to the doctor. “When can he do physical labor with his head injury?”

“
I would say another week. Start off slow. As I said, he’s in excellent physical health. Other than his memory loss and that knot on his head, he should regain his strength rapidly.”

“
Thank you,” he said to Joelette. He didn’t know what else to say. How could you thank someone for offering you a place of security to heal? He turned to the doctor. “Is that all, Dr. Adams?”

“
For now. I would like to see you in two weeks as a follow up.” He turned to Joelette. “Bring him to see me in
Bon Amie
in two weeks on Tuesday, save you some gas.”

She nodded and together they left the office.
Back in the truck, Joelette turned the key and reached for the shift, she paused. “Don't make me regret this decision, Mansir,” she said, her voice shaking. “If you hurt anyone in my family...”

They rode in silence for most of the ride.
Mansir clenched his jaw. Was he a danger to anyone? This woman was taking a chance on him when he wasn't sure himself. He turned his head and closed his eyes. He was at her mercy, and he was sure he could never repay her for her generosity and kindness.

As they turned off the main road, Mansir shifted to look at Joelette.

“Could you stop in the town Dr. Adams mentioned? I’d like to check if any lost person reports have come in with my information?”

“
At the
Bon Amie
police station? Our sheriff is on maternity leave, first woman to hold that office. She'll be back next week. I don’t think the man holding down the office will be of much help. Roger Dale, is somewhat of a goof off. Do you want me to turn around and drive back to Lafayette?”

“
No. You've missed enough work because of me. I’ll check the computer; didn’t you say T-Boy uses the one at the Library? The doctor said this might be temporary, I can wait a few days.”

###

MaeMae sat on the porch in her dilapidated chair as they drove up.

“
Your room's ready. I know you've had a long day.” MaeMae met Mansir at the steps. She nodded to Joelette.

Without argument, Mansir followed MaeMae.

“I don’t know how to thank you MaeMae, both you and Joelette have helped me more than you know,” Mansir said, and then walked to his room.

“
You don't seem to be the least bit surprised that he returned with me.” Joelette shouldn’t be surprised. It was MaeMae’s way. She always seemed to know what was going on before anyone else.

MaeMae sat back in her chair
. “
Cher
, I knew you would do the right thing. Just as I knew our work with him was not done.” She smiled and laid her head back on the chair. “Everything will work out. You'll see. You better go tell Ozamae. He's been moping since you left this morning. I'll talk to T-Boy when he gets home from school if you like.”

“
I hope you're right. I've a feeling that man will bring more sadness than joy to this family. The doctor said he might regain his memory soon, but Mansir promised he would not leave until he cleared the west field.” She pulled her hair up off her neck and tightened her lips. “Of course, it was a man's promise.” Joelette started around the house to find Ozamae, but doubled back. “Tell T-Boy I'll meet him at the dock. I have to be the one to tell him, but thanks, MaeMae.”

She found Ozamae in the back yard, as she suspected with his wounded friends
. MaeMae said he had the “touch” ever since he was old enough to bring her the first lame animal.

“
Hey baby. I've something to tell you.” She put her hand on his head and ruffled his hair. “Mansir came back with me and--”

Ozamae's face lit up,
and he grabbed onto her legs in a tight hug before she could say more. “Can I go see him? How long can he stay?” His eyes grew wider with each question. “Boy, oh boy, I bet he's so happy. He didn't want to go, you know.” Ozamae moved One Eyed Blanc out of the way and laid the baby bird he had been holding back in his cage. “Now he won't be all by himself, right Mom?”

“
To answer your first question, not right now, let him rest. He will be here just as long as it takes to regain his memory and to help me get the field planted. That’s all.” The bus hissed and the gears grinded as it approached. She kissed Ozamae, and headed for the front of the house, avoiding the last question.

A small lone figure sat on the boat dock
. This was T-Boy's favorite place, his refuge. Joelette walked toward her son, and played back in her mind how she would tell her nine-year-old boy who was trying so desperately to be a man.

“
Hey, how was school?” she asked.

“
Same old stuff,” he replied.

“
Come on now, T-Boy, you know the routine.” Joelette sat down beside him. They had an afterschool tradition. “Tell me one academic lesson you learned today.”

He wrinkled his nose in thought.
“I read about frogs in Victoria Canada called Whistling Tree Frogs. They’re called that because the noise they make sounds like a whistle instead of a croak.” A quick smile crossed his face.

She gave him a tight squeeze.

“I could just picture him puckering up his little frog lips and whistling.” He said, then giggled. “I thought that Ozamae would like to hear about them. I also checked out a new book about a boy who finds a castle in his grandmother's attic with a magic knight. I started reading it on the bus.”