the other distractions, and finally located it behind one of the closed green curtains. She pushed aside the curtain and found Holles Harwood, Darmus’s, then Luther’s, assistant. He was standing over a bed with a form covered by a white sheet.
“No!” She rushed into the tiny space. “He can’t be dead. What happened?”
Holles looked up, his handsome face white and drawn. Peggy thought of him as a humorless young man who was sometimes a little sulky. She only saw him occasionally if she met Darmus at his office. His dark hair was perfectly styled and his clothes were always immaculate. He’d been with Darmus for at least five years.
“Dr. Lee? Where did you come from?”
“I want to see him.” She stepped closer to the bed and started to grab the sheet.
“Not like this.” Holles caught her hand. “You don’t want to see him this way. He wouldn’t want you to. He must’ve been out in the garden all night. The insects . . .”
Peggy felt a sob catch in her throat. She felt like a hypocrite. She never liked Luther. But it wasn’t just him. It was his death coming so closely on the heels of his brother’s death. “What happened? Was it his heart? Did he have a stroke? Was it the cancer?”
“They don’t know yet. I’m not even sure he was alive when they found him. I was here when they brought him in. He was already dead.”
He held out his hands, and Peggy put hers into them, remarking, “You got here quickly.”
“I was in the area, thankfully.”
“I can’t believe it. I talked to him last night. He was fine.”
“I know.” Holles bent his head. “Let’s pray over him. He was a good man with a good heart. God has called him back to him. We have to let him go.”
Peggy prayed with him. She bent her head and closed her eyes. But all she could see were images of Darmus and Luther in her mind. When they were both young and vital in college, the day she first met them. The fire. Darmus dying. Luther asking for her help with Feed America. Talking to him about Darmus’s memorial on the phone.
“I don’t want to interrupt,” a young orderly said. “Take all the time you need with him. Let me know when you’re ready.”
Holles lifted his head, his blue eyes steady. “We’re ready. Luther was strong in his faith. We have to be strong and believe he’s gone on to be with his savior.”
Peggy’s rational mind agreed. There was no use standing and crying over a dead body. Luther was gone like Darmus was gone. Everything that made him special and more than a piece of flesh was gone, too. But emotionally, she wanted to throw herself on that body beneath the sheet and cry until all her tears were gone.
She put her hand on the chest area. “Good-bye. I know there are wonderful gardens where you are.”
“We’re ready.” Holles nodded and held Peggy’s hand.
The orderly moved to roll the bed out of the room. “I’m sorry for your loss. You can take his personal effects with you if you like.”
“I’ll take them.” Holles picked up the small bag that contained Luther’s clothes.
Peggy stood to the side as the orderly moved the bed out of the cubicle. Luther’s hand slipped out from under the sheet and dropped against the side of the bed. Something fell from it and dropped on the gray tile floor. It flashed in the overhead light, then rolled away under the sheet that closed off the cubicle.
Peggy got down on the floor and chased it as the orderly moved away with the bed that squeaked going down the hall. She followed the quickly moving object until she put her hand on it. It was a ring. Darmus’s gold wedding band. The outside was etched with the figure-eight symbol of eternal life. What was Luther doing with it?
She looked up and found she was underneath another hospital bed. The man in the bed looked down at her. “Sorry.” She smiled at him as she got to her feet. “My friend lost something.”
The man didn’t reply; he just stared at her. She found the opening in the curtain that separated the cubicles and walked back to find Holles.
“What was it?” he asked.
She held up the wedding band. “Why would Luther have had it?”
Holles shrugged. “Maybe he liked carrying it with him. Darmus died recently. Maybe it gave him solace.”
“Why would he have taken it to the garden with him? I mean, why wasn’t it in his pocket?”
“Who knows?” Holles easily dismissed her questions. “I don’t see anything remarkable about it.”
“Maybe not. But it seems odd to me.”
He took a deep breath. “Darmus always told me that once you had an idea in your mind, someone had to use a crow bar to pry it loose.”
“Sometimes,” she admitted, looking down at the ring in her hand. “I suppose that’s true. And sometimes, it’s a good thing. This feels wrong to me. I want to know how it happened.”
Peggy made Holles sit down in the waiting area so she could pore over the contents of the bag they’d given him. There was a blue T-shirt with Feed America emblazoned on the front. As she held the shirt Peggy noticed there was something in the pocket. She pulled it out and stared at the wilted flower. It was a hyacinth, probably one Darmus planted in the garden. In the language of flowers, it meant sorrow.
There was also a pair of jeans that didn’t look big enough to belong to an adult and the watch the church had given him, inscribed on his twentieth anniversary. It was all in the bag along with his wallet. She looked through it. Driver’s license, credit cards, pictures. Nothing seemed to be missing. His shoes and socks were on the bottom.
