I groaned. She laughed again. And some of the weight I had carried all day began to lighten. It was half gossip session, half debrief, as if she knew I needed the reprieve from thedeath and decayof decomping bodies.
JoJo told me all about last Sunday dinner with her mama and grandmama and great-grandmama, and had me laughing and commiserating with the multigenerational complaints and arguments of a bunch of women in JoJo’s tiny, ultramodern kitchen. Talking to her was a little like home, and somehow made me feel ready to talk to my sisters.
***
PsyLED had booked rooms for us in the Hampton Inn, off I-40. I remembered my reaction to the first hotel I had walked into, back when I signed on as a consultant. I had never seen such fancy carpeting, shiny stone floors, ornate décor. I had changed, or I was just exhausted. I didn’t hardly look at the place as I checked in, instead going straight to the elevator and up to our rooms, carrying my gear gobags and the potted rooted sprig from the vampire tree. I carried it with me because when I had to read the ground deeply, it let me do so safely. It seemed to keep other plants from trying to root and grow into my body, which was strange and complicated. The tree back home and the potted mini vampire tree were both sentient or near enough not to matter. Not that the tree or I had shared that secret with many people. Tandy knew, but Tandy would never share that.
On our last big case, the tree had named itself the Green Knight, and had chosen a job—to protect me. It also had to be fed occasionally, and it wanted living creatures—mice, squirrels, birds. Also not shared. I wasn’t used to keeping lies straight, so I managed by not talking about anything much at all. But it was getting hard to keep it all silent.
JoJo had booked three rooms, one a large suite for FireWind with a king bed and a work area, and the others two regular hotel rooms with two queen beds. If we double bunked, we could sleep four to a room. I hoped the CSI team would be put elsewhere. I didn’t particularly enjoy bunking with strangers.
I chose the room farthest from FireWind’s corner suite and fortunately my room had a south-facing window for the tree. I tossed my bags onto the bed closest to the window. The view was not much a nothing, but the tree would be happy come morning. I stuffed mydeath and decay–stinking clothes into a large zippered plastic bag, showered fast with my strong-smelling homemade lavender soap, and groomed my leaves—tightly curled leaf buds along my hairline. This was a part of my daily toilette, and if I forgot, the leaves stuck out. I had been classified in Spook School and was listed on my personnel records as nonhuman, paranormal, undifferentiated.
I dressed in sweats and unpacked my four-day gobag. I didn’ttravel with much. A change of pants, three shirts, the sweats (which I wore when working in a hotel room when business attire would be uncomfortable), sleeping clothes that were really yoga pants and a tank top in case I had to be seen in the middle of the night, undies, extra socks, field boots, jeans for field work, a plastic bag of travel-sized toiletries, extra mags and ammo, and a speedloader. Unpacking took all of twenty seconds. I unlocked and cracked open the connecting door between the other room and this one so Occam would know I was here.
My cell rang. Again. It was Mud’s number. Sighing, I sat on the bed and stretched out, propped by the pillows. I hit the accept button for the overdue call with my younger sister.
“Hey, Mud.”
“You’un ain’t called us all day. We’uns been calling and calling and I’da thought you was dead if I hadn’t called JoJo and asked her.” Her voice went up in pitch, echoing in the house around her on speakerphone. “You’uns out of town and Ineedyou! Esther wants to kick Cherry outta the house!” Her voice went louder. “She’s my dog and I say she’s an inside dog!”
Esther was taking care of Mud while I worked. It had sounded good in theory. It wasn’t working out as planned.
“Dogs and cats isnotinside critters,” Esther shouted. “They belong outside and not in here with people!”
“I thought that since I didn’t have school today we’uns could go shopping. Instead I been stuck withher! Where are you and when are you coming home so Esther will stopbossingme around?”
Rubbing my forehead and the headache that throbbed just behind my eyes, I said, “I don’t know.”
The silence was absolute.
Then Esther shrilled, “What do you mean you don’t know?”
My older sister, who was a tree-creature-in-hiding like Mud and me, was a holy terror. She was pregnant and growing leaves and having marital problems with her husband-by-the-church. Meaning she had never legally married him but was church-married, and in God’s Cloud of Glory Church women traditionally had no property, no money, no authority, and no say in anything. She had moved in with us a week past, following a spat with her husband. Daddy and Mama wouldn’t take her in, and my older sister Priss had told us, “Flat-out no,” so that leftme, the rebel who had walked away and survived to tell the tale, as the one with a visitor. I had been willing—even eager—to help any of my sisters, and Esther’s watching Mud had sounded great. But Esther’s constant whining and snipping had burned me down to a low simmering anger.
I closed my eyes tight, took a steadying breath, firmed my resolve, drew on about half the church-speak I needed to make my point, and said into the silence, “You’uns both listen to me.” My heart went hard and my voice went harder. “Esther, there’s nothing I can do to help you with your messed-up marriage, the fact that you’re growing leaves, your relationship with the church, or your baby.Not a dang thing.”
Mud tittered at my cussing.
“You have to figure out your life and what you want and how you intend to get there. If you’re gonna fight, then fight, but pick adversaries and battles you think you can win and accept that you may lose. You fight the church, you fight your husband, I’ll be at your side to help, butI cannot fight for you. And. You need to remember this. If you argue and fight with me and Mud, in my home, on my land, then the only ally you have will turn her back on you. ’Cause I ain’t gonna live in misery and disharmony like what you’un and Jed live in.”
Over the connection I heard Esther take a shocked breath.
Well, truth was hard to take. Esther had problems, no one was denying that. But some of her problems had been made worse by her attitude. Feeling tired and resentful and worn to a frazzle, I pushed on. “Mud, you have to figure out how to get your sister help, or kick her out, or call Daddy and Mama and have her removed according to church practices. But whatever you do, you need to remember it has repercussions. You help her, you might be stuck with her. You kick her out, you got to live with the knowledge that you made your sister and her baby homeless. You bring in the church, that might get her burned at the stake because she’s got leaves. Lots of leaves, thanks to the baby hormones. That path will drag us all into the church spotlight. And it will prove to the church that womenfolk can’t live without the stern controllingmanat the reins.”
Mud said, “But—”
“Hush,” I said. “I’m talking. According to the church, you’re a woman grown and capable of thinking and acting like one.Now, I know you’re just a kid, but you ain’t uneducated or stupid or foolish. You got a smart head on your shoulders. You both know how to have a dialogue. That’s one good thing the mamas taught all a us—how to talk through problems.”
They had fallen silent.
“I can’t be there to fix it for either one a y’all tonight,” I said. “However, Esther, understand this. That’s my house. The dog and cats live there. Inside unless they been skunked. Let them in.Now.
“Mud, stop picking at your sister. ’Cause Iknowyou been picking and she can’t take it right now ’cause a the baby. When I get home, we three are going to have a come-to-Jesus meeting and it ain’t gonna be pretty.”
A come-to-Jesus meeting meant a meeting that would result in judgment to right the wrongs and change things. It wasn’t a meeting I demanded lightly and even Esther knew it. She said, “But—”
“No buts.” My voice went hard, cold, and intractable. “My house, my rules.” I hit the end button, wondering if I had just ignited a fuse or put out a fire. And knowing that my last few lines had been the exact sort of thing a churchman might say to churchwomen having an argument.
