Paddy Plays in Dead Mule Swamp (17 page)

Chapter 25

My back was stiff from sitting on the
floor, and the large breakfast was sitting heavy in my stomach.
Paddy whined and lunged at a fly buzzing against the screen.
Instead of worrying about these many puzzles that I couldn’t solve
I decided to take on one I could solve. I wanted to connect the
railroad bridge with the other section of South River Road, and
decided if we drove to the bridge we could find out without doing a
ten-mile hike.

My spine cracked when I stood up, and
I stretched to loosen the muscles. I wasn’t twenty-five any more;
that much was certain. I carried the dishes down to the kitchen,
and checked the new cell phone that was sucking up its initial
charge from a wall outlet. Not quite ready. I didn’t care. Being
able to call anyone from anywhere, or worse yet, being able to be
called at any time, didn’t appeal to me very much.

When I picked up his leash, Paddy
began dancing around, and eagerly jumped into the Jeep when I said
“go to the car.” Within ten minutes we were parked on the west side
of the Thorpe River beside the old Indiana & Northern Railway.
I leashed the dog to cross the bridge, and although he was again
slightly reluctant to begin, he walked the open bridge
confidently.

Once on the east side, we turned
north, moving downstream along the Thorpe. I released Paddy from
the restraint of the leash. The trail that I guessed was made by
anglers to access the bank was well defined, although in some
places the ground was low. I suspected that in the spring this
wasn’t a pleasant walk. Obviously, much of the area along the river
was inundated when the water was high. Even now, there were dark
matted patches of brown muck between the trees, although the ground
right beside the river was a bit higher, and provided a dry
right-of-way for the trail. Occasional wildlife paths snaked off
through the woods on high ground beneath the trees. Now, in July,
we had no problem getting through, and quickly came to the
guardrail at the end of this section of South River Road. I debated
whether I should let Paddy run free, but there couldn’t be much
traffic on this road, and surely I’d see any cars in time to call
him to safety. I left him free.

We strolled eastward on the dirt road.
Very quickly we passed the abandoned house on the south side of the
road that I’d noticed when we drove this way.

“Who lived here, Paddy?” I asked. “I
bet Cora knows the answer. Maybe I’ll ask her. When the road still
went through, they would have been neighbors to the Moshers, in my
house.”

This house had been painted white at
one time, but most of the paint had peeled and the wood had
weathered to a soft gray. It appeared to be even older than my
house and had a modified Federal design, if I remembered my basic
architecture, except for the ugly attached shed. I thought it
looked different from when I’d seen it before, but I was
approaching from the other side and the light was different.
Clearly, no one had been here for ages. The weeds grew tall and
were unbroken around the sad, but once proud old
building.

On the opposite side of the road, the
river side, an opening had formerly been cleared to the water. I
thought it must have been done to provide river access to the
house. A faint trail led through a swath of daisies and
Queen-Anne’s lace. Paddy was already poking his way along it, and I
followed him. Sure enough, the river was very close, and the bank
had been cut to provide a sloping access to the water. If there had
been a dock it was long gone, a victim of winter freezes and spring
floods. However, just downstream the river curved, and on a sandbar
a great blue heron stood on one foot, alert at our appearance, but
not alarmed enough to fly away. On the opposite bank, the curved
branches of large white cedars dipped to the water and hid the far
shore. A huge green dragonfly whined past. Until I was able to
focus my eyes to the proper distance, I could have been convinced
it was a low-flying helicopter. The noonday sun shone down the cut
from the road and beat on my back, while the cool water freshened
the air in front of me. This was a lovely spot, and I pictured
residents from another century taking tea on the lawn, and small
boys playing ball or romping with a dog of their own.

Suddenly, Paddy jumped in the river
and paddled away from the shore. The heron flapped into the sky
without a noise or a backward glance. Momentarily, my heart jumped
into my throat, as I thought the current might carry the dog away,
but he swam strongly back to the sloping bank and shook himself
off.

“I hope you’re cooler now, you
rascal,” I scolded. “Don’t scare me like that.”

The magic of the moment by the river
was broken, but it was wonderful while it lasted. Paddy rolled in
the weeds, filling his long coat with twigs and bits of grass. I
was thankful it wasn’t August when the stick-tights and burdocks
would be ripe. We returned to the road, and picked up our walking
pace, both needing to stretch our legs. We passed Mulberry Hill
Road, and I discovered it did have a road sign; however, it was
hand-painted, faded and nailed to a tree. No wonder I hadn’t seen
it while driving. Continuing east, we walked for about another mile
and then turned around.

The mid-day sun had quieted the birds
and a light breeze was keeping the mosquitoes at bay. I had slipped
into a pensive mood, and Paddy was tracking something through the
daisies. The road was benched here, falling off steeply on the
river side, so Paddy was about five feet below the level of the
road.

From out of nowhere, the sound of a
vehicle, very close, bore down on me. Gravel sprayed, and I turned
around just in time to see a black truck, driving much too fast for
the condition of the road, heading right toward me. The road was
narrow here; the driver apparently wasn’t paying any attention. Not
having a moment to waste, I jumped for the extreme edge of the
berm. I felt a thrust of air pressure as the truck flew past me,
pushing me off balance. I bounced on my rear, but momentum carried
me over backward, and I bumped my head and skidded awkwardly down
the gravel bank, totally out of control. The truck roared on, never
slowing a bit. I ended up in the daisies at the bottom of the
slope. It wasn’t too hard a landing, but the fall had been a shock.
Paddy ran to me and I put my arms around him and held him tight,
thankful he hadn’t been on the road with me.

“What was that about?” I asked him. My
left elbow smarted, and when I stood up I discovered that my left
ankle also hurt. I took a few tentative steps, and decided it
wasn’t serious, but walking home wasn’t going to be a lot of
fun.

Just then, I heard gravel crunching on
the road again. A silvery blue Mazda crossover stopped. The bank
was just a little too high for me to see who it was, but in a
moment the woman in leather from Angelica’s memorial service,
Juanita Ybarra, was peering down at me.

“Are you hurt?” she asked. “I saw that
truck swing too close to you. Oh. You’re the lady I met the other
day.”

“I think I’m all right,” I said. I
stretched some more to check all my moving parts. Something warm
and wet slid down my arm.

“You’re bleeding,” she
gasped.

I rotated my left arm and saw a good
sized patch of road rash between the elbow and wrist. It was oozing
blood and was black with dirt. “I don’t think it’s serious. But,
this bank is too steep for me to get back up to the
road.”

Once again, Paddy saw the solution
first, following the bottom of the slope until it rose to return to
almost road level. Juanita walked along the road and offered me a
hand when she could reach me. She wasn’t wearing leather today, but
had on a purple tube top, tight jeans and high-heeled boots. They
weren’t too practical for walking on the rough dirt road, but she
tried to assist me to clamber up the bank.

“Thanks,” I said. “What are you doing
out here? I thought you lived in Detroit?”

“I do, but I haven’t left town yet. My
brother has a friend who lives on Mulberry Hill. I’m meeting them
there.”

“Was that your brother in the truck?”
I was probably glaring, but I didn’t care.

“No, I don’t know who that
was.”

I wondered if that were true. “Surely
there aren’t many people who drive this road,” I
protested.

“Beats me,” Juanita said. “Look,
you’re really bleeding. I have some tissues in my car. Do you want
me to take you home?”

I walked toward her vehicle, and was
happy to discover that the ankle wasn’t too painful. “My car is on
the other side of the railroad bridge. Can you just take us to the
end of this road?”

“Sure. Um... does the dog have to come
in the car?”

“He can’t really run along beside it.”
I thought this was obvious, but Juanita clearly wasn’t a dog
lover.

“He’s wet and stinky. Won’t he just
find his own way home?”

“He might, but that’s not how to treat
a pet. He’s not even mine. My cousin would kill me if something
happened to him.”

She grimaced. “All right, but put him
on the floor in the back seat. Maybe you better sit back there with
him. Have you got that arm covered? I don’t want any blood on the
seat, either.”

Juanita was certainly worried about
her car. If my ankle hadn’t been sore, I never would have accepted
a ride. However, I managed to convince Paddy to squeeze into the
space behind the passenger seat, and I perched on the edge of the
back seat so that my arm wouldn’t touch the upholstery. We drove to
the end of the road, but never saw the black truck. It must have
turned up Mulberry Hill. There was nowhere else it could have
gone.

“Thanks for your help,” I said, as I
prepared to walk down the short trail to the railroad
bridge.

“No problem. Take care of that arm,”
Juanita said. They were kind words, but she no longer sounded
interested in me. Yet, I was grateful she had stopped. I would have
been really sore if I’d had to walk the extra two miles on a
strained ankle, with a bleeding arm.

Paddy and I returned slowly to my Jeep
and reached my house around two o’clock. There was a county car in
the driveway, so I knew someone was still out in the woods, keeping
watch.

I tied a zipper bag filled with ice on
my ankle with a dish towel, and scrubbed my raw arm with hydrogen
peroxide. This made it bleed even more, and smart like the devil. I
had just enough pads and sterile gauze to wrap the forearm but
would have to buy more before I could change the bandage. When I
carefully peeled off my t-shirt, I discovered the left shoulder had
a long jagged tear in the cloth. As the adrenaline wore off, I
realized just how sore I was.

“I’m having a hot soak,” I told Paddy,
as I turned on the water, and added bath salts to the old-fashioned
claw-foot tub. He curled up on the bathroom rug and watched me with
one eye open. I eased my aching body into the water, resting the
bandaged arm on the edge to keep it dry. My eyes closed, and the
next thing I knew I awoke with a jerk. The house phone was
ringing.

There was no way I could reach it in
time, and I let the answering machine pick up. However, as I came
awake I realized I’d been dreaming of the abandoned house we’d
walked past. I knew what was different today. The front door was
now closed.

Chapter 26

I toweled off, and slipped into yellow
cotton pajamas decorated with cheerful daisies. It was only
mid-afternoon, but I knew I wasn’t going anywhere else for the rest
of the day if I could help it. Before going downstairs, I swallowed
a couple of ibuprofen, and brushed my hair. Being clean made me
feel somewhat better even if my muscles were stiffening.

“Let’s check the phone message,” I
told Paddy. I had to admit that having a dog around had given me
lots of opportunities for one-sided conversations. But it was a
good enough invitation for the dog and he accompanied me to the
kitchen. I gave him a treat and poured myself some iced
tea.

“Miss Ana.” I heard Sunny’s voice when
I pushed the button on the answering machine. She sounded
uncertain. “Could I... we come over tomorrow and sew? We wouldn’t
have to stay long, but maybe for a little while? Please? Well,
OK... bye.” I stretched my muscles and thought about it, but sewing
wasn’t physically demanding, so I punched in the Leonards’ number.
In a few minutes I had agreed to pick up the girls on Saturday
morning. I would have to go out anyway, since I needed to buy more
first-aid supplies to take care of my arm.

About all I did after that was fill
Paddy’s dog dish with kibble and fix a sandwich for myself. Then I
went to bed.

The next morning, when I reached
Hammer Bridge Town, Sunny and Star were waiting for me outside the
trailer, so I didn’t even see Len. They were alarmed when they
noticed my bandaged arm. I assured them it wasn’t too serious, but
I needed to keep it clean until a scab formed. Not wanting to worry
them, I only said that I tripped and had a nasty fall on the road.
In truth, I had decided the whole thing was an accident anyway.
Someone just wasn’t paying attention on the narrow road.

For the sewing project, our first goal
was to lay out the pattern pieces on the fabrics. There wasn’t
enough room on my work table, so Star vacuumed the floor. As yet,
it was only plywood subflooring, but it was new enough to be very
clean as long as the dog hair and loose dirt were cleaned up. When
we knelt down to lay out the fabric, I learned that flexibility was
not going to be my best attribute for at least one more day, but
the pain was tolerable, and the girls didn’t seem to notice that I
was stiff.