9 Seconds of Freedom, Original Fiction, Part 31, Links to first 30 parts
Lunch that day was something unique. If you’ve never attended a ‘pig pickin’ you should. Most of the people who had gathered that morning were men. By noon their families had arrived, and the grounds of the Baptist Church were alive with activity.
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A pit had been dug behind the Whippoorwill, and a whole pig had been roasting there since about the time Boots had picked me up. Huge mounds of pork were stationed on platters along a flatbed trailer, with crockpots of baked beans, corn on the cob, green bean casserole, macaroni and cheese and every other imaginable side dish and casserole. I counted seventeen kinds of potatoes alone.
Huge vats of sweet tea and lemonade, were available if you preferred soft drinks, and an awning was set up to house the harder stuff.
We found a spot along an eight-foot table on a wooden bench, next to Boots. I started to eat at a quarter to noon, and did not let up until twelve thirty. I couldn’t. Every time I emptied some portion of my plate, some well meaning cook with a pretty smile would offer me more of her specialty. It was heaven.
After lunch, guitars and banjos came out and the trailer became a makeshift stage. The music was good, and what wasn’t was played with so much joy it didn’t matter. Simple people.
I didn’t say much at lunch. I saw enough political slogans on T shirts and ball caps to keep my mouth shut. But, the enemy of my enemy, is my friend.
“You’re being awfully quiet,” Leeanne said.
“Well, not a lot to say, I guess. Kind of a weird day,” I said.
“I just can’t wait to get all of this over with and get back to River Grove to settle up with that bitch that killed my baby,” Leeanne said.
Boots sat up and looked at her. “Baby, what baby?”
Leeanne looked down at the table. “When I was Skinner’s champion, I got pregnant by her son, don’t ask,” she said. “But, she found out and took me to Doc Jensen to get it fixed.”
Martha sat down across from me.
“What? Who told you that?” Martha asked. “Never happened.”
Leeanne sat upright, her nostrils flared. “Seriously, you’re going to tell me what I experienced in my own body didn’t happen?”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Martha said. “Look, how far along were you?”
“Eight months,” Leeanne said. “What difference does that make? Didn’t keep that bastard from cutting it right out of my body.”
“That’s just it, Leeanne, ain’t no way,” Martha said. “Doc Jensen’s prolife.”
“What do his politics have to do with doing what the mayor tells him?” Leeanne said. “She brought him down to her house, wanted him to do it right there in the dungeon they held me in. He said he couldn’t, took me to his office. Cut the baby out, stitched me up, and helped me escape. I didn’t blame him. She makes people do some crazy stuff.”
“I refuse to believe it, you’re probably just like my cousin. Got a kid running around somewhere from all this mess,” Martha said.
Boots turned back to the music and took a pull from her bottle of beer.
“What did you say?” Leeanne asked.
“I’m saying, he took that baby alive, that’s all,” Martha said. “No way he aborted a full-grown baby like that. Look, he let you go, right? He tries, best he can to be a decent human being in a town run by monsters.”
“Did you hear that, Dalton,” Leeanne asked. “My baby might be alive.”
“I heard,” I said.
“Boots, give me your keys,” Leeanne said.
She took them and slapped them on the table.
“I got to save my sister today, but tomorrow, I’m going back to River Grove. You asked what you can do to help, Dalton West. Go find my baby so I can know it’s okay before I end that woman,” Leeanne said.
Boots spit beer and shook her head. “What? No, that’s crazy. He needs to be right here, besides, Martha’s probably wrong,” Boots said.
Leeanne was crying.
“Did your cousin get pregnant in there, Martha?” Leeanne asked.
“Well, somewhere along the way,” Martha said.
“Did they kill her baby?” Leeanne asked.
“No, I told you, they told her they done, but he’s alive, almost five years old. They found him with the couple was fighting her at River Grove, I think.”
“You hear that, Dalton West? You find out if my baby is alive, I don’t care what it takes, you find out!” Leeanne said.
She grabbed the front of my shirt fiercely.
Dammit. Well, I had to do it, didn’t I?
“I wouldn’t know where to start,” I said.
“You find Doc Jensen and you make him talk,” Leeanne said.
“Leeanne, he’s been retired for years,” Martha said.
Leeanne smirked. “He was retired the day he cut me open too, retired more than a decade. Didn’t stop him then, won’t stop him form talking about it.”
I looked at Boots.
“Any idea where to start?” I asked.
“You trust Ben and Fred?” Boots said.
“I think so,” I said. “What choice do I have?”
“Well, if anybody knows now that Nana Murphy’s gone, they’ll know,” Boots said.
“Nana Murphy’s gone?” Martha said. “When?”
“Day before yesterday, I think. I can’t remember anymore,” Leeanne said.
Boots looked pissed. She got up from the table and walked away, talking on her cell phone.
I got up from the table and headed to where we’d parked that morning. Heading back to River Grove without Leeanne was at the very bottom of the list of ways to spend my day. If I didn’t get back into town without Sheriff Crawford spotting me, I was a dead man. And, I could put this whole operation at risk. If they tortured me, I was sure I’d talk.
Boots’ car was a Pontiac Sunbird. The seat barely went back far enough to keep my legs from cramping, but it started okay. I pulled out onto the highway. No GPS, I was going to have to fake it. I’d only been here twice. I pulled out, hoping I didn’t get lost.
Twice I changed direction to avoid cops. Fortunately, they didn’t get curious. I didn’t trust Skinner to hold up her end of the forty-eight-hour bargain and getting arrested for a murder wasn’t on my agenda.
I only got lost once. It was two PM when I passed the sign saying, River Grove 3 miles. I turned off the highway and took back roads into town. I stopped about two blocks behind Bedman’s hardware and parked behind an abandoned store. Even though they wouldn’t be looking for the Sunbird, I couldn’t risk being spotted.
I tried the loading ramp door. It was unlocked. I went in through the basement and eased up the stairs toward the main floor. It was quiet. When I came out into the store, Fred was behind the counter.
“Oh!” he said.
He dropped the clipboard he’d been holding.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” I said.
“When your truck was still there, and you were gone, Ben went looking. Are you okay?” he asked.
“Well,” I said. “Nothing bad has happened since I left, so, on that level, I guess so.”
I was staying near the stairs, not wanting to risk being seen through the big plate glass front windows.
“Where were you?” Fred asked.
“I’d rather not say,” I said. “No offense. I came for some information.”
He looked at me funny, then came over closer.
“Sorry, felt weird whispering all the way across the store. No one’s here. Should I lock the door?” he asked.
“No, nothing suspicious,” I said. “Do you know anything about a doctor Jensen?”
“Oh, sure, he was the town doctor when I got here. Took care of almost everyone,” he said.
“Do you know where he is now?” I asked.
“Retired. Do you need a doctor? I can call a friend,” he said.
“No, I need to find Dr. Jensen,” I said.
Fred looked thoughtful. “Last I knew, he was in Hobart, at the retirement home, out by the hospital,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Do you want me to come with you, I could go in. No one would think a thing of seeing me there, I serve lunch there with my church group once a month,” he said.
“No, I think I’d better do this myself, thanks though,” I said. “You and Ben stay safe. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
I left the way I’d come in. I didn’t see anyone on the way out, but the sheriff’s car passed the mouth of the alley, just as I was opening the door. I pulled it back. I waited for over a minute, then cracked the door open. He was gone.
My heart was thumping so hard, my hands shook. I felt naked heading out that door. So, I went to the back of the panel truck and took out the Hitachi nailer. I filled the clip and checked the battery, fully charged.
It wasn’t a firearm, but it was better than nothing. I couldn’t remember ever shooting a gun anyway. What was it they said, inexperienced gun carriers were more often the victim of their own weapons than the other way around. Maybe it was best.
I took off my jacket and wrapped it around the nailer. I didn’t need questions.
Loving this story! Keep it up.
Thank you for this great post!!