Blood Memory

She stares at me for several moments, then begins shaking her head like a superstitious native confronted by a ghost. “Don’t tell me nothing like that. I don’t even want to think that.”

“If it scares you that much,” I say softly, “you must think it could be true.”

She finally stops shaking her head. “What are you saying, Cat?”

“Nothing. Crazy thoughts.” I want to tell her what I know, but something stops me. Is it my lack of proof of Grandpapa’s motive or just common decency? Louise has precious memories of my father. What good could it do for me to smudge them with accusations of child molestation? “May I see your bedroom, Louise?”

A knowing expression comes into her face. “You want to see if Luke built the bed.”

“Yes.”

“Come look.”

She leads me to a door set in the back wall and opens it. In the small bedroom beyond stands a bed that looks as if it belongs in a Manhattan loft. Four brushed-steel posts support an oval-shaped canopy frame, and within the headboard and footboard are ornate patterns rendered in different metals, some of them reminiscent of the mandala on Dr. Malik’s office wall. It’s one of the most detailed pieces my father ever did.

“My God,” I whisper. “Do you know what that bed is worth?”

Louise laughs. “I got an idea. I guess this bed is what I’ve got instead of retirement.”

“Please don’t let anybody steal it. And if you ever want to sell it, give me a call.”

“I may take you up on that one day.”

She leads me back into the front room, and we stand in a suddenly awkward silence. The economic gulf between us could scarcely be greater than it is.

“How old are you, Louise?”

“Forty-six.”

Older than I thought, but still only fifteen years older than I am. “What do you do for a living, if you don’t mind me asking?”

She looks at the floor. “I got a man here takes care of me. I just keep up this house for…well, you know why.”

This wasn’t what I was hoping to hear. “Is the man Jesse Billups?”

Louise sighs, and for a moment I dread her answer. “Not Jesse,” she says. “Henry. The man who drove you onto the island. He ain’t pretty like Luke, but he’s got a good heart.”

“Are you married?”

“I ain’t interested in getting married. I dreamed of it for a long time, but…the man I wanted to marry got killed. That was the end of that dream for me.”

I reach out and take hold of her hand. I never met this woman before today, yet I feel more intimately bound to her than to people I’ve known my whole life. When I think about what Grandpapa told me about my father’s death, it makes no sense. How could the man this woman loved so profoundly commit unspeakable acts with a child? With his own child. And yet…the professional in me knows that such things happen.

“Sounds like the rain’s slacked up,” Louise says.

“You’re right. I should go now, while I can. Do you have a car?”

She shakes her head. “No, and Henry’s gone to Lafayette to see his kids. They stay with his ex-wife.”

“What about Jesse?”

She opens a kitchen drawer and takes out a cell phone. After dialing, she listens, then says, “Jesse, this is Louise. I still got Miss Ferry with me at my place. She needs to get back to Natchez. You carry your narrow ass back here and take her to her car. Call me back and tell me you’re on your way.”

She hangs up and looks at me helplessly.

“Does anybody else have a car we can borrow?” I ask.

“Lots of people here own cars, but they keep them on the mainland, by the ferry dock.”

“What do they use for transportation here?”

“There’s five pickups on the island, and Jesse got the keys to all of them. Use to be, lots of people had keys. But Dr. Kirkland started complaining about the gas they were using, so Jesse keeps all the keys now.”

“What do you do in an emergency?”

“Make do. But Jesse’ll call back in a minute. He’s probably just checking that everything’s tied down tight for the storm. The fishing boat on the south end, maybe.”

“No, he left the island. He said he had to get some supplies on the mainland.”

Louise looks bewildered. “That’s funny. Jesse don’t leave the island too often. And never at the same time Henry’s gone.”

“Somebody called his cell phone, and he said he had to leave right then.”

“He say who it was?”

“No.”

“That don’t sound right.” She shrugs, then goes to the front window and looks out. The sky is darker, if anything. “If Jesse doesn’t call back, you can stay the night with me. I know it’s not what you’re used to, but I can sleep on the sofa. You can sleep in the bed your daddy made.”

I stand motionless in the close air of the shack, listening to the rain drumming over the drone of the air conditioner. My skin is crawling. “There’s no guarantee the bridge will be there tomorrow, is there?”

“Depends on the rain. But if it’s flooded out, somebody can take you back to your car by boat.”

“I appreciate it, but I think I’d rather get back to my car now, if you think I can make it.”

She turns from the window and looks at me. “Oh, you can make it, if you don’t mind getting wet. You can use my bike. Ain’t much lightning out there. And if you cut through the woods, the rain won’t be as bad, ’cause the trees make a tunnel over the road. Cut down through the hunting camp, then-when you hit the road to the boat ramp-turn back up along the shore till you come to the bridge.”

“I can do that.”

“Sure you can. It ain’t even dark yet, really. Just cloudy. And I got a light on the front of my bike. I’ve ridden around this island in the middle of the night when I needed to. It’s safe. Just watch you don’t slide off the gravel into a ditch or something. Lots of snakes this year on the back side.”

I shiver, recalling the hallucinatory snakes I saw in my apartment as the d.t.’s began. “How fast can the water rise? Could the bridge be covered up already?”

“I doubt it. If the river wasn’t already so high, you wouldn’t have nothing to worry about. But you’ll be at the bridge in ten minutes. If you do have a problem, call my cell phone. Stay where you are, and I’ll come get you.”

“How will you come?”

“On my two feet.” She takes my cell phone from me and programs her number into its memory. “If I need to, I can get there in no time. And if Jesse calls back, I’ll send him after you. He can drive you across and bring my bike back both.”

I move to the door, then turn back and hug Louise.

She squeezes me tightly. “You going through some tough times, girl. You come back and see me sometime.”

I promise that I will, though I suspect I won’t ever be here again. Then I walk onto the porch and carry her bicycle down to the path.

“Hey!” Louise calls through the rain. “Wait!”

I stand in the rain while she disappears inside for a minute. The air out here has a greenish tinge, like the look the sky gets before a tornado. The wind is blowing hard from the south, and the raindrops sting my face. I hope she’s getting me a raincoat, but when she returns, she’s carrying what looks like a Ziploc sandwich bag.

“For your cell phone!” she says over the wind.

Taking the Baggie, I slip my phone and car keys inside it, crush the bag to get the air out, then zip it shut and stuff it into the front pocket of my jeans. I start to pedal away, but Louise grabs my arm, her eyes desperate.

“I know you didn’t tell me everything,” she says. “I know you got something bad on your back. All I know is this: ain’t no man all good or all bad. And if you find out something bad about Luke, I don’t want to know. Okay?”

I wipe the rain from my eyes and nod.