Anna took a deep breath. “Mother, even if he were here, there’s nothing he could do. He probably doesn’t even remember you.”
“He remembers,” Nell said. “I talked to him.”
“Even so.” Anna reached out and took Nell’s hand. Her palm was warm and moist. “He’s an elderly man. He probably won’t live long.
If we called the police and they verified what you said, he probably wouldn’t even make it to trial. I mean, who else knows about the murder, besides you?”
“My father knew and—”
“Anyone living?”
“No.” Tears were building in Nell’s eyes. She blinked rapidly.
“Then it would be your word against his, and frankly, Mother, I don’t think it’s worth it. I mean, what can you gain now? He’ll die soon and then you won’t have to worry.”
“No.” A tear traced its way down Nell’s cheek and stopped on her lips. She licked it away quickly, hoping Anna didn’t see. “He won’t die soon.”
Anna frowned. “Why not?”
“He’s working on an experiment to prolong his life.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Mother.” Anna pulled her hand away. “How many other people have you told this piece of nonsense to?”
“I haven’t—”
A nurse knocked on the door and walked in. She set a tray next to Nell’s armchair. “I have your medication, Nell.”
Nell reached over and took the Dixie cup. The liquid inside was brown. “This doesn’t look like my medication.”
She looked up in time to see Anna shaking her head at the nurse.
“Just drink it, Nell,” the nurse said in her fakely sweet voice, “and it’ll be all right.”
Nell took a sniff of the cup. The contents smelled bitter. “I really don’t want it.”
“Mother,” Anna snapped. Then in a confidential tone to the nurse, she said, “Mother is having a bad day.”
“The past few days have been difficult,” the nurse said. “She hasn’t gone to meals and she won’t leave her room at all.”
“Is that true, Mother?”
Nell swirled the liquid in her cup. Sediment floated around the bottom. Suddenly she realized that it didn’t matter. No one would care if Karl poisoned her. She put the cup to her lips and drank before she could change her mind.
The liquid bit at her tongue like homemade whiskey. She coughed once and then set the cup down. “I don’t see why you want to know,”
she said.
Anna pursed her lips. “Mother, really.”
Nell rubbed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, but she couldn’t make the taste go away. She grabbed the side of her chair and got to her feet. Her hips cracked slightly when she stood. The nurse handed her the walker.
“Where are you going, Nell?”
Nell didn’t reply. She moved the walker toward the sink, and got herself a drink of water.
“I’m afraid my mother may not be well,” Anna said softly. “She was just telling me that the man across the hall murdered her sister, and she’s afraid that he’s after her.”
“Mr. Krupp? I wouldn’t think so. He’s been bedridden since he came here.”
“Maybe you should say something.” Anna stopped speaking as Nell turned around. Nell made her way back to the armchair. The nurse took her arm as she sat down.
“Nell, I understand the man across the hall frightens you.”
Nell looked up at the nurse’s round face, trying to remember her name without glancing at the name tag. “No. Whatever gave you that idea?”
“Your daughter was saying that he made you nervous.”
The name tag said DANA, L.P.N. “I haven’t even seen him and he’s very quiet. Why would that make me nervous?”
The nurse smiled and picked up the tray. “I was just checking, Nell.”
Anna waited until the nurse left before speaking. “Why did you lie to her, Mother?”
“I don’t know why you come visit me,” Nell said.
Anna slid her chair back and stood up. “I don’t know either sometimes. But I’m sure I’ll be back.” She picked up her coat and slung it around her shoulder. “And, Mother, it’s better for you to socialize, you know, than to stay locked up in your room. Talking to other people will give you something to think about, so that your mind won’t wander.”
She walked out. Nell waited until she could no longer hear the click of Anna’s high heels on the tile floor. “My mind doesn’t wander,” she murmured. But the nurse had said that Karl was bedridden, and he had looked so healthy to her. Nell sighed and then frowned. What would he be doing in Household 5 if he couldn’t get out of bed?
Nell picks up the bat and takes a practice swing. Her dress sways with her, but she won’t wear the knickers Karl gave her. Bess has been dead for a week, and Nell is lonely.
“What are you doing here?” Chucky asks. They are alone. The other boys haven’t arrived yet.
“Wanna play,” she says.
He frowns. “In a dress? Where are your knickers?”
“Threw them out.” She hits the bat against the dirt like she’s seen Pete do.
“You can’t run in a dress.”
“I can try.” Her anger is sharp and quick. She hasn’t been able to control her moods since Bess died. “I’m sorry.”
Chucky ducks his head and looks away. “It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry,” she says again, and looks at the playing field. The grass has been ruined near the bases. Sometimes she thinks baseball is the only dream she has left. Now, with Bess dead and Karl gone, even that seems impossible. “I’ll just go home.”
“No,” Chucky says. “I mean, you can play.”
She smiles a little and shakes her head. “Not in a dress. You were right.”
“Wait.” He touches her arm and then runs to his house, letting the porch door slam behind him. She goes to home base and swings the bat again, pretending that she has hit a home run. It is a good feeling, to send the ball whistling across the creek. She loves nothing more. If only she were a little boy, she could play baseball forever.
Karl once told her that she could turn into a boy when she kissed her elbow. She tried for weeks before she realized that kissing her own elbow was impossible. She will never be a boy, but she will be good at baseball.
Chucky comes back. He thrusts some cloth into her hand. “Here,” he says.
She unfolds it. He’s given her a pair of frayed and poorly mended knickers. “Chucky?”
“They don’t fit me no more. Maybe they’ll fit you.”
“But isn’t your brother supposed to get them?”
“Nah,” he says, but doesn’t meet her eyes.
“I don’t want to take them if it’ll get you in trouble.”
“It won’t.” He studies her, sees that she’s unconvinced. “Look, you’re the best hitter on the team. I don’t want to lose you.”
She smiles, a real smile this time, one that she feels. “Thanks, Chucky.”
Nell resumed her walks again, making sure that she took them around medication time.
Karl’s door remained closed for days, but she finally caught him in the hallway, switching Dixie cups on the trays.
“You’re switching my medication,” she said. She stood straight, leaning on her walker, knowing that he couldn’t touch her in the halls.
“Yes, I am,” he replied.
She swallowed heavily. She hadn’t expected him to admit it.
“Why?”
“I guess I kinda feel like I owe you, Nell.”
“For killing Bess?”
He set the cup down on the tray marked with her room number.
His hand was trembling. “I didn’t kill Bess,” he said quietly. “I killed Edmund.”
“You’re lying.”
He shook his head. “I was going to meet Bess that morning in the orchard. We were going to run away together. Edmund got there first, and he killed her. So I went and I killed him.”