CHAPTER 24

Colleen rode in the back of the ambulance with Milton. She thought he squeezed her hand at one point. While one attendant worked on Milton, the other had his hands full keeping the emergency vehicle on the ice-covered streets. Colleen kept talking to her husband through it all, even though she had no idea what she was saying. Her mind was other places and on other times. She recalled the first time she’d met him. A summer dance at the pavilion in the park. It was June and he had on a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up. The tie he had removed was hanging over his rearview mirror. His hair was long and he was chewing Cloves chewing gum.

Funny the things you remember when you begin fearing that memories may be all you have left.

Her girlfriend, Betty Jean Fauber, had introduced them, and they danced and talked for hours and he talked her into letting him take her home that first night. She refused as long as she could without offending him and finally allowed him to take her to Betty Jean’s house. This way Betty Jean could take her home later and she’d never have to explain to her parents why she got in the car with a man she had only known for a few hours. But hours was all it took. She was in love before she went to sleep that night. A couple of days later when her parents met him, they were just as taken as she. The only one in the family who wasn’t so easily impressed was her sister. Doris never liked Milton and never pretended to. They spoke and were pleasant to one another, but it ended there. Doris didn’t think he was good enough to be in the family. But, as their daddy had once said, given the chance, Doris could have found fault with John the Baptist.

Then her mind jumped to Milton and her dad playing golf together on Wednesday afternoons. She saw visions of him serving Communion at church on Sunday mornings. She saw him in his annual Santa suit at the store. In his softball uniform. In his first pair of Bermuda shorts. In a tuxedo at his cousin’s wedding. In that white shirt with his sleeves rolled up. She could smell the shaving lotion he wore that night. She squeezed his hand and said a prayer and the attendant looked over at her and, thank God, smiled.

When they arrived at the emergency room, Buddy and Lois Pence and the other policeman were waiting for them. Milton was whisked down a hallway and into a room and out of Colleen’s sight. Buddy took her by the arm and they all sat in the waiting room. There were only five other people in the room—an elderly woman in a tattered coat and tears being consoled by an apparent daughter and son-in-law, and a young mother walking a crying baby back and forth past the large frosted window, talking to her, trying to quiet her constant wailing. Colleen’s nerves, already near an edge, became more upset at these scenes and sights. Lois was Colleen’s surprising rock and comforter. Officer Tolley stood by the automatic sliding entranceway, and Buddy sat in a chair opposite her.

“Buddy, did you call my sister?”

“I talked to her husband. He said they would be right over.”

As the door slid open, the doctor and his wife came in and went straight to Colleen. Doris kneeled in front of her and spoke in soft tones while Campbell Sterrett greeted Buddy and Lois.

“Have you heard anything?” the doctor asked.

“No.”

“I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Thanks.” Buddy sat back and waited. He hadn’t expected to see these people again tonight. He wanted to call Amanda and let her know what was going on but he didn’t want to leave Colleen just yet, even though her sister was here with her. For some reason he felt even more uneasy since she arrived. Doris looked in worse shape than Colleen. He only knew Doris from church and never had much contact with her before tonight except for one occasion when a patrolman brought her into the station, threatening arrest.

He had been at his typewriter doing some late work when he heard a commotion at the front desk. He looked up and saw Officer Charles Banes leading a woman in by the arm who was yelling in his face. The thing Buddy remembered most about her rantings were the two sentences she kept repeating over and over, “Take your hands off me,” and “Do you know who I am?” A second look told Buddy he did know who she was and he walked out into the front desk area and asked what was going on.

“She was driving without a license,” Officer Banes quickly explained.

“I have a license. I just don’t have it with me.”

“That’s the point of having one. You got to have it with you,” Banes said, while still holding on to her upper arm.

“Take your hands off me and let me call my husband. He’ll bring it down here and settle this whole thing.”

Banes didn’t give up easily. “He can bring it down here but that still don’t change the fact that you were driving without it.”

Buddy stepped in to give some relief to both parties. “Officer Banes, I know this lady, and I’ll be responsible for her. Come back to my office, Mrs. Sterrett.” She followed Buddy to his cubicle and sat down in front of his desk.

“Now tell me what this is all about.”

Doris looked at him with a vacant stare. She spoke cautiously.

“I got pulled over for speeding. Sixty in a thirty-five-mile-per-hour zone or so says the goon out there in the blue suit. He asked to see my license and registration and was very rude and cocky, I might add. I couldn’t find either and told him I was on my way home and if he would follow me, I’d show him when we got to the house. But he wouldn’t hear of that. He made me turn off the engine and get in the car with him and come down here, and here we are. I told him who my husband was but that didn’t faze him.”

“Should it have?” Buddy felt some sympathy for the officer.

“Well, you seem to know me so I suppose you know who my husband is. Dr. Campbell Sterrett.”

“Yes, I know you, and I know who your husband is, but, Mrs. Sterrett, that doesn’t allow you to operate a moving vehicle without proper identification and a license.”

Doris squinted at him and studied his face for a long twenty seconds and said, “Should I know who you are?”

“Lt. Buddy Briggs. I go to church with you every Sunday morning.”

“I thought you looked familiar. I’ve seen you take up collection. And your wife is Juanita, the real pretty auburn-haired woman who always sits over on the left side.”

“Amanda.”

“Yes. Amanda.”

Doris made this revelation without the slightest bit of embarrassment. She saw no need to apologize in being slow to recognize him or remember his wife’s name.

“Mrs. Sterrett, I think I can make this whole thing go away with Officer Banes out there …”

“Good.”

“Let me finish. I can make it go away, run you home to get your permit, and smooth everything over with him. But what I can’t do is release your car to you tonight.”

“And just why not?”

“I have reason to believe if I insisted you take a test for alcohol consumption, you might have a little trouble passing. So why don’t you just let me handle everything and let this whole thing die down quietly. We’ll take you home and you can prove to Officer Banes you do indeed have a driver’s license and then tomorrow morning you can pick up your car and drive it home.”

Doris stood and waited for Buddy to lead her back to the front desk and make the arrangements. Then she went with Charlie Banes through the double front doors of the Mt. Jefferson Police Station and into the night toward certain agony and discomfort at arriving home in a city-owned police cruiser. That’s what she did. What she didn’t do was thank the lieutenant for his kindness or ever speak to him at church on any subsequent Sunday morning.

She hadn’t acknowledged his existence until this very night, just a few hours earlier in her own living room. Now she had no choice. She would soon be his little girl’s mother-in-law. She would soon be his grandchild’s other grandmother. She would soon be the person they would have to plan their Thanksgiving dinners and Christmas mornings and birthday parties around. Would she be easy to work with? He wasn’t expecting any miracles. As he sat watching the two sisters talk in low waiting-room tones, he became aware that one of them was raising the volume just a little.

Looking out the window toward the automatic door, Doris said, “Who called them?”

“Buddy called them. I felt like I needed him here.”

Doris turned her cold bloodshot stare on Buddy, “Did you call them?”

Buddy finally realized whom she was talking about. Coming in the door and around the corner toward them were Paul and Dove Franklin. It was nearly one a.m. Their presence attested to the loyalty and care they showed to the members of their congregation. Colleen stood to greet them and they hugged and offered words of comfort.

A nurse came out and escorted the elderly woman, her daughter, and her son-in-law to one of the rooms at the end of the darkened hall. The young mother, who had walked the crying baby down to a coo and a whisper, was told they could come back, and the same nurse showed her where to go. This left the Milton Sandridge party of seven, which were engaged in intervals of sporadic conversation and awkward silence. At one low point of small talk, Dr. Sterrett came back into the room to an immediate hush in anticipation of news. He addressed Colleen, but spoke for all to hear.

“Milton has had a minor stroke. That sounds worse than it really is. There is no reason to believe he will not fully recover. It may take some time. A couple of months maybe, but he is going to be just fine.”

“Oh, thank God.” Colleen was visibly relieved. “Did you see him, Campbell?”

“Just for a second. Dr. Paxton is seeing to him. He’s a good man. I offered to help in any way I could, although it’s not really in my line. But he has everything under control, and I think you should be able to see him before long.”

“Surely they’re going to keep him.”

“Oh, yes. He’ll be here for at least a week I’d think. Maybe longer. But you just relax, and in about a half an hour, you’ll be able to go back and see him.”

“Thank you, Campbell. Thank you so much.”

The conversation and the quiet roar picked back up and Buddy took this opportunity to call Amanda. Paul Franklin followed him out into the hallway.

“How did you find him, Buddy?”

“He was late coming home. Colleen called me so we went down to the store sometime after eleven and there he was slumped over his desk.”

“I was with him today in that very office. I thought he didn’t look well. You’re pretty close to him. What is it? The job? Does it demand a lot of him?”

Buddy had interrogated a lot of people but had not been interrogated himself since he was twelve years old when his daddy suspected him of smoking behind the garage. Is that what this was? An interrogation? Or was this just the thinning nerves at the end of one of the most trying days of his life? What did Paul suspect? What did he know?

“Probably the job. A lot of hours. And how about you? How’s Millie?” When in doubt change the subject.

“Quiet. Very quiet. There’s more to be done there. I’d like to talk to you about it after the holidays.”

“Anytime.”

“And by the way, you know I’m here for you where Shirley Ann is concerned. All you have to do is just call.”

While Paul and Buddy talked in the hall, Doris turned her full attention to Dove, who was talking to Colleen about another parishioner who had suffered a minor stroke recently and recovered quickly and fully and was back stronger than ever at his job.

“What are you doing here?” Doris asked.

They both turned toward Doris.

“What are you doing here?” she asked again.

“Are you talking to me?” Dove asked.

“I’m talking to you. Your husband was called here tonight. But what are you doing here?”

“Doris!” Colleen said like a mother scolding a child.

“It’s one o’clock in the morning. Do you always make hospital calls with your husband this time of night?”

“Sometimes I do. Yes, I most certainly do.”

“When did that start? Our father is in this hospital. Have you ever been to see him?”

“I certainly have. I was here Monday.”

“How about when our mother died? We were all at the hospital that night, too. Were you here? I don’t think so.”

“Doris, that was five years ago. I had a ten-year-old child then. I couldn’t just leave anytime I wanted to. Now it’s different. She’s fifteen and can stay by herself. Is that what this is about? Because I wasn’t here when your mother died?”

Colleen interceded. “Dove, that is not what this is about. Doris has had a very bad day and she’s not herself. Please just ignore her and forgive her. She’ll be better in the morning.”

“Don’t make excuses for me. I’m fine. And Miss Dove, if any other member of my family gets sick, don’t feel obligated to come. Okay? But then you probably wouldn’t anyway. You don’t get out in middle of the night for just anyone, now, do you?”

Dr. Sterrett appeared mercifully behind Doris’ chair. “Colleen, if you want, you can come back now.”

He led her away, and the waiting room fell so silent you could hear the police calls coming in on Officer Tolley’s radio. Someone had slipped in a ditch out on Route 250 but no one was hurt. A little shaken up, but nobody hurt.