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Authors: Susan Rogers Cooper

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BOOK: Dead to the World
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BACK HOME

The Denny’s was decorated in 1950s chic, with black and white tiles and jukeboxes and lots of red touches, like all the Denny’s in the world. Logan got them a booth in Mrs Benton’s section and she saw them almost immediately. She may not have recognized Bess from their brief encounter, but she certainly knew who Logan was. Instead of coming to their table, however, she turned and walked into the kitchen.

Bess and Logan looked at each other. ‘You think she’s running out on us?’ Logan asked.

Bess shrugged. ‘I dunno. Should we follow her? Or go outside and look for her car?’

But before they could make any decision, the woman came back in and walked up to their table, pad in hand. ‘Can I get y’all something to drink?’

‘Ah, a Coke,’ Logan said.

‘Water for me,’ Bess said.

‘Great!’ she said, turned and left.

‘Why didn’t you say something?’ Bess demanded, leaning forward across the booth to whisper.

‘I don’t know!’ he said, whispering back. ‘Why didn’t you?’

‘Because this is your fight! You’ve got to stand up for yourself!’

‘I thought you were here to help me!’

As their whispering got progressively louder, Mrs Benton was back with their drink orders. ‘Have you had a chance to look at the menu?’ she asked.

‘Ah, no, not yet,’ Logan said, looking down at said menu.

‘Ma’am, I don’t know if you remember me,’ Bess started, but was interrupted.

‘Yes. You’re one of the girls who ambushed me at my home. And I see you’re here with Logan. But you need to order some food or I’ll get in trouble.’

‘Ah, a cheeseburger and fries,’ Logan said, handing her his menu.

‘A salad,’ Bess said.

‘We have several different salads,’ Mrs Benton said. ‘Which do you prefer?’

‘Just the dinner salad with oil and vinegar, please,’ Bess said.

‘Certainly,’ the waitress said, picking up Bess’s menu and turning to leave.

‘But we really want to talk to you!’ Bess said.

‘I’m off at four o’clock. Meet me at the library,’ Mrs Benton said.

They ate their lunches, and Bess couldn’t believe she was coveting Logan’s cheeseburger. She’d been a vegetarian for over a year! One weekend of meat and she was back to being a carnivore? She shook her head and demolished her dinner salad.

‘I noticed you weren’t at school this morning,’ Logan said. ‘None of you were.’

‘Yeah, well, we found out some bad news—’

‘Is it your parents?’ Logan asked, grasping her hand. ‘Are they OK?’

She shook her head. ‘No, it’s not my parents. They’re fine. It’s just that one of my sisters is having trouble with her boyfriend. And it got sorta bad.’

Logan sat up straight. ‘Did he hit her? I’ll beat the shit out of him if he did! Which sister? Who’s the guy?’

Again Bess shook her head. ‘No, no, nothing like that. And I really can’t talk about it. The people involved wouldn’t want any outsiders knowing about it.’

He let go of her hand and slumped against the seat of the booth. ‘Is that what you think I am? An outsider?’

‘No, no, of course not!’ Bess said, wondering how she’d gotten herself into this mess. ‘It’s just that … well, you know … it’s family.’

Then he nodded sagely. ‘Oh. OK. That. I heard that Graham Pugh was dating his sister – Alicia, not Megan, right?’

‘She’s his foster sister! And yes, Alicia! Jeez, Megan? That’s sick!’

‘A sister’s a sister, right? If you’re willing to bang one, why not all of ’em? And you’re like adopted, right? You best be careful!’ Logan said.

Bess felt the dinner salad begin to congeal in her stomach. She could only stare at Logan. Finally, she said, ‘He’s not banging anyone – well, he’s not banging Alicia! And you’ve got the check, right?’ she said, throwing her napkin on the table and jumping up. ‘You’re going to be late getting back to school!’ she said and stormed off.

‘Hey, Bess, what’s the matter?’ Logan called after her, but she ignored him as she ran out the door.

1960–1972

Edgar hated prison. The food was lousy, people kept trying to beat him up, and one guy even tried to diddle him. Most of the assaults he was able to ward off, even without the help of his dead brother’s straight-razor. He learned a lot of things you could do with a toothbrush or an illicit spoon stolen from the mess. He was eight years in when a guy finally got to him. It was a big black guy who took umbrage to something Edgar had said. By the time the guy jumped him, Edgar had totally forgotten his offense, if he had ever known it. The guy beat the crap out of him, sending him to the infirmary. Two days later Edgar was released. During yard time the day of his release Edgar had stowed his sharpened toothbrush shiv under his shirt and, in front of twenty or so big black guys, he stabbed his assailant in the neck, nicking the carotid artery and stood there, his arms pinned behind his back by a couple of the black guys while they all watched Edgar’s victim bleed out. The guards took their own sweet time getting to the scene. By then Edgar was out cold from the beating he’d received from the guys
holding him. When he woke up in the infirmary, he discovered he had a concussion, a broken nose, three missing teeth, a dislocated shoulder, a ruptured spleen and ten years added to his sentence. He was lucky – if his victim had been white, he would have gotten more like fifteen.

In June of 1972, Edgar was released from the Georgia State Penitentiary having done his whole time with no parole. So he was free to leave that great state, which he did, heading back to Biloxi where he thought he might still have a wife and son.

But the old boarding house had been torn down and there was a shopping center where they’d all used to live. He looked up the name ‘Winslow’ (the name he’d taken when he boarded the freighter that took him away from the Philippines and had given to his wife and child) in the phone book and found only one – his son, Chester. Asking at a gas station, he discovered that the street his son lived on was only a couple of blocks from where he stood, so he walked there, dragging his small cardboard suitcase with him.

The address was a four-unit apartment building, two up, two down, and Chester’s name was on the postal slot for apartment 2A. Since the bottom floor was 1A and 1B, he surmised that 2A would be upstairs. He dragged his body and his suitcase up the stairs and knocked on the door of 2A. It was opened by a shirtless young man holding a medical device to his mouth, with a marijuana roach clasped in the device. The young man sucked on the roach and said while still breathing in, ‘Yeah?’

‘Chester?’ Edgar asked, knowing there was no doubt he was standing in front of his son. The Hutchins’ genes were more than evident: the kid had his face – or at least the face Edgar used to have.

‘No. Chet. Who are you?’

‘I’m your dad,’ Edgar said.

‘Bullshit,’ the kid said.

‘No really. I just got out of prison.’

‘Huh. My mom always said I looked just like you. Sorry, but I don’t see a resemblance. How do I know you are who you say you are?’

Edgar pulled out his old driver’s license from Mississippi and showed it to the boy. ‘Yeah, that’s my dad,’ Chet said. ‘Mom showed me pictures. But that ain’t you!’

‘I got sorta messed up in the joint,’ Edgar said.

‘I’ll say. So what do you want?’ the kid said, taking another deep drag of the still-burning roach. He held it out to Edgar, his eyebrows raised.

Edgar shook his head. It wasn’t as if he’d never smoked marijuana. He’d tried it several times when he was hanging out with the black guys here in Biloxi, but he’d never liked it much. It just didn’t have the punch he’d gotten to like so much in his Shanghai opium days. ‘I was hoping for a place to stay,’ he said to his son.

‘Huh,’ the kid said. He was still blocking the door to his apartment. ‘You mean like here?’

‘If I could,’ Edgar said. Then added, ‘Please.’

Chester, or Chet, shook his head. ‘Hell, I’m not sure you even are who you say you are. For all I know, you’re some lowlife who stole my real dad’s driver’s license.’

‘Your mom’ll know me,’ Edgar said. ‘Is she here?’

Chet laughed. ‘Here? Are you kidding me? Like I got the time or the inclination for that! Naw, she’s in a home run by the state. Over on the other side of town.’

‘What’s she doing in a home? Is she sick?’ Edgar asked.

Chet looked at him like he was nuts. ‘I’d have thought my real dad would know my mom’s a retard. Seems like she always has been. Seems he mighta noticed!’ He went to slam his front door, but Edgar stuck his foot in the door.

‘Your mom’s name is Rita, she’s a little bit cross-eyed and not real smart, but I never woulda taken her for a retard. And I can prove I know her – she’s got a mole right under her navel on the right as you look at her,’ Edgar said, his words delivered rapidly in his attempt to keep the door partially open.

‘Oh, gross, man, like I’d ever look at my mom’s belly button!’

‘What about your grandmother? She knows me.’

‘Ah, man, she’s dead. Like two or three years ago. That’s why mom’s in a home – I sure as hell can’t take care of her. Granny’s the one who really raised me. Mom didn’t know squat about bringing up a kid.’ He sighed. ‘But she still mighta done a better job than Granny. That old bitch really enjoyed beating the shit out of me every chance she got.’

Edgar felt something in or near his stomach, a pang of remorse or even guilt, but just for half a second. ‘So let’s go see your mom. Rita’ll know me, even after all these years, even with …’ he pointed at his scarred face, ‘… this,’ he ended quietly.

‘Yeah, you’re butt ugly, and Mom always said how handsome you were. Doubt she’ll recognize you even if you are telling the truth.’

‘We can always get a nurse to check her belly button,’ Edgar said.

Chet pulled the door open wide. ‘Yeah, I guess. Come on in while I get a shirt on.’

FIFTEEN

T
he chief picked Willis and me up around eleven that morning and we headed to the library. There were two computers, each with internet access. I Googled ‘Houston Restaurants’ then punched in ‘paninis’ and ‘Greek’ and ‘organic’ and came up with about twelve results. Only one started with the letters s-u-n: Sunkissed Kafe, on Jett Street, which, when I looked it up on Mapquest, turned out to be a small side street of only two blocks, just to the west of Montrose Avenue, in the trendy Montrose area of Houston.

The chief sank down in the chair next to me. ‘OK, great. Now what? What the hell does this tell us? We know where Diamond Lovesy was when she had a picture taken with some guy who, according to Miz Hutchins, looks just like her daddy. So what?’

I leaned back in my chair, feeling some level of defeat. ‘I don’t know,’ I said, trying to ignore the hint of a whine in my voice.

‘So maybe it’s a relative?’ Willis suggested.

The chief and I both just looked at him. Then we looked at each other, jumped up and headed for his squad car.

BACK HOME

Bess was devastated. She couldn’t believe Logan had said those things! Like the Pughes were some hillbilly family where your mama is your sister and your daddy is a cousin! Is that what the whole school thought? I’m never going back! she thought. I’ll get my GED and go straight to college! she told herself. I’ll let the others make up their own minds, but I’m telling them this! Then had to rethink that. How badly would it hurt Alicia to know that anyone, even just Logan, thought such a thing? And Megan? Well, maybe at first she’d find it funny, but at some point it would get to her, of that Bess was certain. Megan was no dummy. She might do stupid things on occasion – well, more like half the time, Bess amended herself – but she was not stupid!

Bess felt tears streaming down her cheeks as she drove the minivan home. Logan was such a tool to say such things! she thought. And to think she made out with him! Yuck! OK, she thought. He was a good kisser, but he’s an awful person! And I’m not making out again with an awful person! Yet still the tears came. She’d liked him so much. The way his blond hair fell in his eyes when he was studying, or the way his cheeks dimpled up when he smiled. And he’d seemed so sweet, so considerate. And maybe he was a little too tall for her, but they’d fit just right when they were on the sofa. Making out on the sofa. She could feel the same heat that had filled her body from his touch fill her up at just the memory of it. ‘Damn!’ she said out loud. ‘Get over it!’

As she pulled into her driveway, she couldn’t help but notice Logan’s car in her spot.

‘No, it was just Daddy and Uncle Herbert and their younger brother Edgar, but he died in the Pacific. It was all very sad. My grandfather never got over it,’ Miss Hutchins said. ‘Uncle Herbert said it broke his daddy’s heart, and then, when my daddy died too, well, he just went. Right when Mama called about the telegram.’

‘What about cousins?’ I asked.

‘Well, now, Uncle Herbert never had any children, and Uncle Edgar died in the war, so no first cousins. And Grandpa Hutchins was an only child, and his folks were long dead by the time I came to be. I don’t know if they had kin, but I’ve never heard of another Hutchins around here,’ the old lady said. ‘As for Grandma Hutchins, she had a sister, Auntie Christine, but she, well, she traveled a lot, never married, and died young.’ Miss Hutchins leaned into me and whispered, ‘Mama said it was a venereal disease! I had to look that up.’ She straightened and said, ‘But she never had any children.’

And there was a united sigh from her audience of three. ‘Back to the drawing board,’ the chief said.

BACK HOME

‘What are you doing here?’ Bess demanded as she burst in the back door to find Logan sitting on the sofa, with her sisters as bookends.

He jumped up. ‘Man, I’m so sorry!’ he said. ‘Things just come out of my mouth sometimes and I don’t even know it! That was an awful thing to say—’

‘Just leave, please,’ Bess said, her words measured.

Alicia stood up and went to Bess, putting her arm around her and hugging her. ‘It’s OK, Bess,’ she said, holding her at arm’s length and smiling at her. ‘Logan told us what he said. And it’s just about what I suspected was going around the school. But he’s promised he’ll beat the crap out of anyone he hears saying it again!’

‘Alicia!’ Bess said.

‘I told him no,’ Alicia said, ‘but what’s a girl to do when a guy goes all Galahad on her?’

Logan moved closer to Bess and Alicia went back to the sofa. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said softly. ‘That was an awful thing to say, even if I was just repeating what I’d heard—’

‘That’s no excuse!’ Bess said.

‘You’re right! It isn’t. I’m an asshole. You know it and I know it. It’s just that I’ve been knowing it longer than you have. My assholeness is just new to you, and it takes some getting used to.’

‘I’m not sure I can forgive you—’ Bess started.

‘Jeez, what’s to forgive?’ Megan said from the sofa. ‘He said a dumb thing! Like you haven’t? Shall I list the dumb things you’ve said this week alone? OK, one—’

‘Stop!’ Bess said, her hand raised like a traffic cop. Turning to Logan, she said, ‘Do they know you thought the sister my brother was, excuse the word, banging, could have been Megan?’

‘Oh, yuck!’ Megan said from the sofa.

‘Ah, no, I didn’t mention that,’ he said, head down.

‘And that you warned me to watch out for my own brother because, and here I quote, “You’re adopted”?’

‘Double gross,’ Megan said, and then laughed.

Bess whirled on her sister. ‘Why are you laughing?’

‘Because it’s so stupid! Jeez, Logan, are you really that dumb?’

‘Yeah, I guess,’ he said, still staring at the floor.

Alicia stood up again. ‘Come on, Bess, Logan’s one of the good guys—’

‘You were just telling me the other night there
are
no good guys! That they’re all out to get in my pants!’

‘Whoa, now!’ Logan said, finally looking up from the floor, both arms raised in surrender. ‘I never ever tried anything like that!’

‘Not yet!’ Bess shot at him.

‘Yeah, not ever!’ he shot back. ‘I mean, you’re cute and all, but I signed a pledge at my church to stay a virgin at least until I graduate high school, and I have every intention on signing another one after graduation that’ll take me through college! That’s one of the reasons why this thing with Harper is pissing me off so bad!’

Bess just looked at him. ‘You could have told me that,’ she finally said.

Logan’s face began to infuse with color. ‘I told you that I hadn’t … Well, it’s kinda embarrassing. It’s not something I, like, you know, advertise.’ Then his eyes got wide in panic, as he looked around at the three sisters. ‘Please, y’all, don’t tell any of the guys, OK? Please!’

Alicia and Bess looked at Megan. ‘What?’ Megan said. She sighed. ‘OK, I know I blew it when I told the twins about Alicia and Graham, but I’ve learned my lesson.’ She mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key. ‘Your secret is safe with me.’

‘Shouldn’t you be in school?’ Bess asked, turning back to Logan.

‘I told them I had a doctor’s appointment. And I wrote a note from my mom so they believed me.’

‘So,’ Megan said, jumping up. ‘What’s the plan, Stan?’

‘Who in the hell is the guy in the picture with Diamond?’ I asked the room in general. There were two manly shrugs and one small voice saying, ‘Daddy, of course.’

The chief, Willis and I exchanged glances. Did we argue with her? Try to set her straight? Ignore her? Then both guys were staring straight at me, as if I were the only one qualified to handle her. Personally, I didn’t see where I had any qualifications for this particular job. I mean, Chief Cotton was in charge! It should be
his
responsibility. Then I remembered how he’d handled the ghostly aspect of this business earlier. Let’s just say he was no Henry Kissinger or Hillary Clinton.

‘Miss Hutchins, this may well be your deceased father, you’re right,’ I said, as tactfully as possible. ‘But we have to consider the more likely possibility that it’s someone who’s actually living.’

‘Well, of course you do!’ she said. ‘But don’t you see? That’s exactly what Daddy wants! He wants y’all traipsing around, trying to find some imaginary killer while he sits around the house waiting for his next victim!’

‘You think he’s in the house?’ the chief asked.

‘Well, of course! I don’t have mice! Yet I hear scurrying going on up there day and night!’ she said.

‘Up where?’ the chief and I asked in unison.

‘Why, in the attic, of course.’

‘Have you been up there?’ I asked her.

She shook her head. ‘I haven’t been up there in years. My arthritis, you know.’ The three of us exchanged quick glances again and, as one, jumped up and headed for the stairs.

BACK HOME

‘Logan and I are supposed to meet Mrs Benton at the library at four o’clock,’ Bess said.

‘Harper’s mom?’ Megan asked. Bess nodded. ‘So she didn’t tell y’all anything at this lunch thing?’

‘No, just to meet her at four,’ Logan said, as he and Bess took their places on the loveseat.

‘Think she’ll show up?’ Megan asked.

‘Why would she tell us to meet her there if she’s not going to show up?’ Logan asked, wide-eyed.

Bess couldn’t help finding his trusting nature adorable. ‘To get us off her back,’ she said, patting him on the hand. ‘If she doesn’t show up at the library, and we try to track her down at her home, then maybe Tucker will be there, and we can’t very well talk to her with him around.’

‘She’ll show up,’ Logan said. ‘I betja.’

All four of them headed out in the minivan at three-thirty, on their way to the library in Codderville. When they arrived they didn’t see the car they’d seen Harper in the day before, but weren’t sure if Mrs Benton had her own vehicle. ‘Should we go in?’ Alicia asked.

‘Yeah, maybe she’s already in there,’ Megan said.

‘Do you know how many cars they have?’ Bess asked Logan.

‘I only saw the one when I picked Harper up that night. But Tucker had that truck. So maybe two?’

‘Maybe we should go in because she could already be in there,’ Alicia said.

After arguing about it for a few more minutes, majority ruled and they left the minivan and went into the library.

The Codderville Library was new, and quite impressive for a small town. Four thousand square feet divided into sections: an adult fiction and non-fiction section with several sets of tables and chairs, a walled-off section for children, complete with puppet theater and lots of smaller-sized tables and chairs, meeting rooms, an audio lending library including a new section for ebooks, and a large area of desks with computers and a few printers.

Not seeing their prey, the kids decided to split up – Bess and Logan at a table closest to the front doors, and Alicia and Megan three tables back from them.

At ten minutes after four, the front doors opened and Mrs Benton came in.

We found a door on the second floor that led to the attic and Willis and I were more than happy to let Chief Cotton lead the way. He even had his gun drawn, just in case. Very little light came through two shuttered windows, but I found a switch and turned it on. Two bare bulbs hung from wires from the rafters, one on each end of the attic, and held what could only be forty-watt bulbs. The attic was huge – covering all of the house, and filled with the kinds of things that can collect after more than one hundred years. There was an old-fashioned, large-breasted dress form, trunks of different styles from different eras (boy would I love to rummage through those – another time, perhaps), old furniture – some in stable condition, other pieces broken to the point of no return (why they were still up there was anybody’s guess), and lots of boxes, sealed and unsealed. But the most interesting object was a twin-sized mattress on the floor, blankets atop it, an unlit kerosene lamp on an upside-down wooden box, an open box filled with bottles of water, crackers, peanut butter, a bag of Hershey’s Kisses and a bag of beef jerky. Someone was definitely living in Miss Hutchins’ attic, the same person who made noises like the pitter patter of mice, the same person who dragged something down the second floor hallway in the dead of night, and the same person who, more than likely, killed Humphrey Hammerschultz and Diamond Lovesy.

BACK HOME

Mrs Benton saw Bess and Logan, nodded to them and headed their way. Alicia and Megan turned their heads away, afraid the older woman might recognize them and bolt. If she did notice them at all, she didn’t react. She sat down across from Bess and Logan and asked, ‘Now what is this all about?’

‘Why don’t you tell us?’ Bess said. ‘We know the baby Harper’s carrying has nothing to do with Logan, so why is she saying it’s his?’

Mrs Benton glanced from Bess to Logan and back again. She smiled. ‘You certainly are trusting of your boyfriend,’ she said to Bess. ‘I’ve never had that luxury.’

Bess’s face turned crimson and she said, ‘He’s not my boyfriend.’

‘Yet,’ Logan said, and put his hand over Bess’s. Bess looked into his eyes and the two were lost for a moment.

‘Whatever!’ Megan said, standing up and coming to the table. ‘Mrs Benton, Logan’s not the father, OK? We know it and you obviously know it. And Harper needs to take back what she said! It’s not fair to Logan – or my sister.’

Megan sat down next to Mrs Benton, while Alicia pulled up a chair from the next table.

‘I’m feeling a bit outnumbered here,’ Mrs Benton said, still smiling.

‘Do you really think this is funny?’ Megan said, her voice rising. She got a stern look from the librarian and several patrons.

‘Of course not,’ Mrs Benton said, lowering her voice. She looked at Logan and said, ‘Logan, I’m sorry. Harper said you were a nice boy, and I’m not sure why she decided to dump this on you. I know it’s not fair and I’ll have her retract her statement. Hopefully, it hasn’t gotten much further than the four of you.’

‘I hope not,’ Logan said, still holding Bess’s hand.

‘So what’s really going on? Who’s the daddy?’ Megan asked.

Mrs Benton stood up. ‘That’s none of your business,’ she said. ‘I’ll take care of this, Logan. And if you see either of my children again, just stay clear of them.’ With that, she turned and walked out the door.

‘Do ghosts eat Hershey’s Kisses?’ Willis asked.

‘Not that I ever heard tell,’ Chief Cotton said. ‘Not into peanut butter either.’

‘Thank God we’ve got a ghost authority here,’ I said sarcastically. I bent down to go through other boxes that were in close proximity to the mattress. After discarding one that held turn-of-the-century baby clothes, I found one with more modern clothing, although it could have belonged to either a man or a woman. Generic T-shirts and blue jeans. Underneath those I found some boxer briefs that led me to surmise that the person sleeping on this mattress was more than likely a man.

‘Whatja got there?’ the chief asked, squatting down next to me.

I showed him the clothes as I tossed them on the floor, going for the bottom of the box. There was a Dopp kit there containing the usual items one would find in such a place: deodorant, shaving cream and a bag of Bic razors, aftershave, a bar of soap and a wash cloth, fingernail clippers and a toothbrush and toothpaste. At the bottom of the kit was a red velvet sheath. The chief reached down and picked it up, lifting the flap at the top of the sheath and pulling out an old-fashioned straight-razor.

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