In Search of Eden, page 29
“I’ve got to go, sweetie,” Henry said to Vi. “The Travelers have struck again.”
“Who are they?” Miranda asked Ruth, who was shaking her head in dismay.
“They’re thieves and criminals,” Joseph answered grimly, and as he and Henry headed for their cars, Miranda caught sight of Grady. He had gone pale beneath his freckles, and he looked as if he might cry.
chapter 39
*
Miranda recovered her optimism as she slept, and when she awoke on Monday morning she was hopeful and bold. How hard, after all, could it be to find out the birth date of one eleven-year-old boy? She served breakfast, looking up in anticipation whenever the bell jingled but had to admit she was a little disappointed when Henry Wilkes came in alone for his oatmeal and peaches. The other side of the booth stayed empty. She glanced at it when she was taking Henry’s order and flushed when she noticed him noticing. He smiled knowingly when she served him. She left his booth in a flustered hurry. After he left, she looked at the empty booth and wondered for a fleeting minute if the walk yesterday had just been a mirage. “Everything’s not always about you,” she muttered to herself; then she centered her mind on her job and stayed busy.
Pastor Hector came in around eight, and she served him breakfast. On an impulse she asked Venita if she could take a short break, and upon getting permission, she stopped at Hector’s booth. “May I ask you a question?” she asked.
“Of course. Please, sit down.” He put aside the book he was reading. The Story of Christianity by Justo Gonzalez.
“Interesting reading,” she said as she slid into the booth.
“Indeed. Gonzales was one of my seminary professors. Also a compatriot. We are both native Cubans. Now Americans. He’s first generation. I’m second.”
Miranda looked at Pastor Hector with interest. You never knew a person’s story, she realized, unless you asked.
“Your parents came from Cuba?”
He nodded. “They escaped on a leaky boat, but once their feet touched American soil they were safe.”
“Like the cities of refuge in the Bible. Places where, no matter who you’d been before, you had a new chance.”
He looked at her, interested. “Exactly.”
“My neighbor used to tell me about them,” she said. “He was a Christian, too.”
She expected he would ask her if she was one then, and try to talk her into becoming one, but he just looked at her with that interested smile and something else in his eyes. It was as if he liked whom he was looking at, whether she believed the same things he did or not, and she felt a warm surge of acceptance.
“I was wondering about something,” she said, heading the conversation back to her mission.
“Shoot.”
“I would like to find out a little bit about one of the children at the group home. Do you have any ideas how I could do that?”
He was silent for a minute. “I assume the obvious answer has already been ruled out.”
She nodded. “I put his dander up the other day.”
Pastor Hector laughed. “That’s not hard to do.”
She waited. He seemed to be considering. “Your best friend here in Abingdon is probably the person who knows the most about what’s going on. She prides herself on being well informed.” His grin told her immediately whom he meant.
She laughed and nodded. Of course. She should just ask Eden. “I’ll talk to her after school.” She thanked him, stood up, and went back to work, and it wasn’t until he had left that she realized he had never asked her why she wanted to know. Odd, now that she thought about it.
Joseph had skipped breakfast at the Hasty Taste and arrived at work early on Monday morning, then proceeded to stew in frustration. Yesterday’s scam involved two more heat pump sales, this time in his jurisdiction. He had already spent too much time berating himself for going to the picnic while the Travelers invaded his territory. Now he was going to work the problem. He had spent hours yesterday afternoon visiting every trailer lot and campground, talking to managers and residents in search of the mysterious Ram truck and Jayco trailer. They were elusive, to say the least. According to his inquiries, those driving RVs were families or sportsmen. No one had aroused suspicion of any kind. He had even driven around any spots on private land that he thought might be inviting to someone wanting to lay low. He had turned up nothing.
His interviews with the crime victims had yielded some interesting facts, though. There was a group of these scam artists, not just one or two. Not exactly a surprise. One man had done the initial selling in both cases. He had been tall, gray-haired, and described by both victims—who happened to be women—as “charming.” The actual work, however, had been done by two-men crews, separate ones, according to the descriptions given. In all cases the con men had driven white vans.
One homeowner had become suspicious during the installation and had gotten the plate number of the van. But that, too, was a dead end. The plate turned out to have been stolen from a car in Alabama six months ago. Joseph was heartily sick of these fellows’ activities.
He decided to take the offensive. He knocked at the chief’s office door and was admitted. Ray Craddock was probably Joseph’s own age but more of a bureaucrat than a policeman. He had been hired from outside the department, an upstart from the D.C. area. Part of the town manager’s idea to bring in new blood. The chief listened attentively to Joseph, then gave him leave to do whatever he thought best. Joseph proposed a town meeting to inform the residents of Abingdon of the threat, as well as a press release to the news media. A joint operation with the Washington County Sheriff’s Department.
“All right,” Chief Craddock said, “as long as we get credit for the idea.”
“Why don’t you take credit personally, Chief?” Joseph suggested. “You can talk about it when you speak to the reporters.”
“Good idea, Williams. I like the way you think.”
Joseph suppressed a smile. He had found early on that the two of them could have a smooth working relationship if he did the police work and left the posturing and cameras to the chief. Both of them seemed perfectly satisfied with the arrangement. “Great,” he said. “I’ll get the meeting arranged.”
An hour later the high school gym had been reserved, the press release composed, and the town meeting set for Thursday night. Chief Craddock would conduct it, but Joseph and Henry would be on hand to answer questions. He stopped by the chief’s office to tell him about the arrangements and to give him a copy of the release.
“This won’t do,” the chief said, shaking his head as he read what Joseph had written. “You need to be more careful how you phrase things. I don’t want any lawsuits.”
“What do you mean, sir?” Joseph asked, confused.
“You can’t call them Irish Travelers,” he said.
“Well, what should I call them?” Joseph asked, trying not to show his ire.
“Call them . . . ah . . . itinerant self-employed vendors and craftspeople who may be of Western European descent and sometimes misrepresent their products or abilities. And say something about this by no means indicating that all such people belonging to the Western European—American community are criminals.”
Joseph kept his eyes from rolling by sheer force of will. “Then why have the meeting at all, sir?” he asked.
“Because if we don’t, it will look bad.” Craddock looked at him as if he were a simpleminded child.
Joseph took his leave and left his boss rewriting the press release. Well, he had done all he could on that for now. Besides, he was hungry. He decided to go to the Hasty Taste and get an early lunch. His step quickened and he brightened at the thought, although he didn’t examine the feelings too deeply.
“Oh, hello, Mr. Adair, please come in.” Ruth held the door open. Johnny Adair again had his hat in his hands.
“I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am.”
“Why, it’s no bother at all. Come in, come in.”
Mr. Adair stooped and picked up a bushel basket at his feet. It was full of the prettiest peaches Ruth had ever seen.
“I know it’s not much, but I just wanted to say thank you for how kind you’ve been to my boy.”
“Oh, my goodness! Why, you shouldn’t have. You know we enjoy having Grady. Come into the house, please.”
He stepped inside. “Just tell me where you want these, and I’ll set them down.”
“In the kitchen, please, Mr. Adair. Oh my! They’re going to make some lovely pies. And just in time for the church supper.”
“These are June Blush peaches from South Carolina,” he said, following her into the kitchen. “They have seventeen to eighteen percent sugar content. Once you taste one of these, you’ve tasted a peach.”
“Let’s cut one up now, shall we?” Ruth asked, anxious to sample.
He grinned. “You’re a woman after my own heart.”
She smiled and turned to find her paring knife. “Where’s Grady?” she asked.
“I left him back at the trailer,” he said. “I don’t want him wearing out his welcome.”
Ruth’s outrage was sincere. “Oh, Mr. Adair, you mustn’t feel that way. Honestly . . .” She went to the hallway and checked to make sure Eden wasn’t home from school yet. “We’re just so glad Eden has a friend,” she said confidentially. “And Grady is such a wonderful boy. You’d be doing us both a favor if you let him come every day.”
He looked hesitant. She would give him a minute to let the thought grow on him. She took one of the peaches, peeled and sliced it, and brought it to the table on a saucer. They each had a slice. Ruth closed her eyes. “Oh, this is heavenly.”
“I told you.”
She smiled, suddenly liking Mr. Adair very much. “Would you like a cup of coffee? I was just ready to take a break from my sewing, and I’d love the company.”
He hesitated a minute, then apparently decided to accept her hospitality. “Yes, I would. I tell you, Mrs. Williams, sometimes this old life gets the best of me.” He set his hat on the extra chair and suddenly looked older and more tired than he had the other day.
She put the coffee on, then sat down across from him. “Are you hungry?”
He shook his head. “I had lunch not long ago. Let’s both of us just rest.”
She nodded and let herself relax. He was pleasant company, Mr. Adair. He reminded her of someone she’d known. And liked. Funny how those things worked. She had seen it go the other way, too. She’d taken a dislike to someone because they reminded her of a mean teacher or a boy who’d snubbed her.
“Please, call me Ruth,” she said in a sudden burst of warmth.
“I’d like that,” he said. “And you call me Johnny.”
The coffee brewed. She poured them each a cup. They sipped appreciatively. She cut up another peach. “These are going to be wonderful in a cobbler.”
“They’ll need very little sugar, Ruth. They’re just as sweet as they can be all by themselves. But it’s not just sugar that makes a good peach,” Johnny continued, seriously intense. “It’s the right balance of sugar and acidity. And you have to leave them on the tree until they’re ready to drop. And by then, they’re too ripe to ship. So to get a good peach you almost have to be there when it falls into your hand and then eat it on the spot.” He smiled and his face creased into lines. “There are a lot of things like that in life, aren’t there?”
“Yes. There are,” she said, smiling, thinking of moments of joy that she’d let pass because she thought there would be an inexhaustible supply.
They each kept the company of their own thoughts for a moment. Then she spoke. “How has life gotten the best of you, Johnny?”
He sighed and shook his head. “It’s this chasing around on the road. It’s about to wear me out. A day here. Two days there. And the work I do is not . . . fulfilling. Sometimes I would just like to be able to stop. To settle down and rest.” And the look he gave her was pure weariness.
“Why don’t you, then?”
He shook his head. “I can’t. I’ve got debts to pay. And I have to take care of Grady.”
“What kind of work is it that you do, exactly, Johnny?”
He paused. “A little of this. A little of that. Sales. Home improvement. Appliance installation and repair. I travel around with the work. When there’s a boom in one area, I stay until it’s bust. Then I go somewhere else.”
Ruth got up and reached for the coffeepot. She topped off each of their cups and chose her words very carefully. “It’s a shame Grady didn’t get here in time to enroll in school. Eden would have loved having him in her class.”
He looked up with genuine regret in his eyes. “I know he needs to be in school. I feel bad about that. I really do. It’s a bad life for him, moving around, but he was worse off with his mama.” His mouth shut tight after that, signaling he had said all he was going to say. Ruth respected him for that. The woman was Grady’s mother, no matter what she’d done.
“How can I help, Johnny?”
“You’ve helped already.”
“I meant what I said about Grady. We’d love to have him every day.”
He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I know you meant it, Ruth. I can tell you’re not one to say one thing and mean another. But the truth is, I’m not sure if we’ll be around here much longer.”
“Why not? There’s plenty of work, isn’t there?”
He nodded. “But the place I was parking the camper—well, I had to move it. And to be honest with you, I just can’t find a place that suits me.”
“I know it.” She shook her head and clicked her tongue in disapproval. “It’s absolutely immoral what Earl and Jim charge the tourists in the summer.” She wished there was something she could do. Suddenly the answer dawned on her, and it was so elegant, so absolutely right, that she could barely keep from shouting. “Why, you can stay at my campground!” she said triumphantly.
Johnny gave her a blank look.
“Come on,” she said, glancing at her watch. “We’ve got time to run out there.”
He appeared bewildered but followed her and allowed her to drive him, since she knew the way. They pulled into the graveled lot at the hillside and stopped. “The RV sites are across that hollow behind those trees. You can’t see them well from here. It’s all grown up since we ran it.”
“This place is yours?”
“Every inch of it,” she said. “We bought this back when land was cheap and built it all ourselves. My husband and I ran this place for thirty years. Those were the sweetest times,” she said, and once again she thought of those moments of joy.
He got out of the car, and she followed suit. He walked around for a few minutes looking into windows, stepping on sagging floorboards, shaking timbers, getting down on one knee and looking underneath the lodge at the foundation. He brushed off his jeans and his hands and rejoined her at the car; then they both swept their eyes across the placid lake, the green rolling grass. The wind gently brushed the leaves of the trees, and the peace that she always felt at this place descended on her.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“I think it’s beautiful. And I would love to stay here.”
She felt as pleased as if he had given her a gift.
“But only on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“That I do some projects around here. Like shoring up that porch. Replacing those joists under there. Reglazing the windows. And it looks like the chapel could use a new roof.”
Ruth felt herself getting excited. She didn’t know why. There was absolutely no sense in repairing this place. There was no way she could run it herself, and neither of her sons was interested. Yet she had the feeling that this was a divinely orchestrated meeting. She had the feeling it was something that was meant to be. She was so excited she could barely contain herself. “I insist on paying you,” she said.
“No, ma’am.” Johnny was shaking his head. “Uh-uh.”
“I can’t let you do all that work for nothing.”
“It’s not for nothing. I’m using your land.”
“Then let me keep Grady every day while you work. School’s out. He and Eden will have a wonderful time together. It would be helping me. Honestly.”
He hesitated. Then he nodded. “All right. I’d appreciate that. I hate for him to be alone all the time.”
Ruth beamed. “And I insist on paying for the materials for the repairs.”
“I still feel like I’m getting the best of things.” He smiled sheepishly.
“I’m happy if you’re happy,” Ruth said, beaming. She felt a sweet joy at the thought of the old place hearing the sounds of joy and laughter again. And Mr. Adair looked happy, too. She could see in his eyes a look of deep satisfaction.
chapter 40
*
The week passed quickly for Miranda. Eden did indeed prove to be a miracle worker in the matter of the group home. Miranda had solicited her help, saying that she intended to do something for the children when their birthdays came. Not a lie, because she went to the local pizza parlor/amusement hall and purchased gift certificates for five pizza parties including game tokens. It cost a bit but was money well spent. She gave the five envelopes to Eden, saying she would like a name and birth date for each one.
“Shall I pay you to do the job?” she asked Eden, but Eden only looked insulted.
“I may need help from you someday,” she said. “That’s how it works with these things.”
Miranda accepted her judgment and grinned as Eden rode away, today’s Wanted posters tucked into the basket of her bike. She was a corker, that one. She wondered what the latest developments were with David and Sarah but didn’t ask.
On Tuesday, while awaiting Eden’s detective work, Miranda called Mr. Galton at the Thurmond Visitor Center. He was in and proved to be a very nice man. He sounded older, in his seventies, perhaps. It was refreshing to be able to tell the truth.
