failed to call me and Jillian might appear with a steak knife if I knocked on their door.
“Miss Parchester!” I called as the three of us approached the oak. “It’s Claire. I’ve brought Luanne Bradshaw and a wee visitor. May we offer you a chicken salad sandwich and iced tea for lunch?”
Her face appeared. “What a lovely surprise, Claire. I regret to say there’s insufficient room for all of you up here, and of course I couldn’t come down even if I wished. Is that an infant?”
“Yes, a cousin and all that sort of thing. Very complicated. If you drop the ladder, I’ll bring up your lunch.”
“That won’t be necessary,” she said as a basket attached to a length of twine nearly hit my head. My shoulder was less fortunate, but I’d survive. “Miss Peterson thought it might be expedient to utilize this if I needed something not too heavy, such as batteries or a newspaper. She’s the chairperson of the hospital auxiliary and quite astute in foreseeing problems.”
The sandwich and cup were dutifully sent up. I set Skyler’s basket in the shade, then Luanne and I made ourselves as comfortable as we could on the rocky ground.
“Have you heard what took place at the press conference?” I called, craning my neck to stare at the bottom of the platform.
“No,” she answered, “but I would be surprised if Mr. Armstrong said anything he hasn’t already said at countless planning commission meetings. They brought to mind all the mindless faculty meetings after school, in which each person felt obligated to repeat whatever point had already been made. I used to sit in the back and crochet doilies. Do you crochet?”
“I do,” Luanne said. “Soothing, isn’t it?”
While they chatted about various patterns and thread weights, I thought about the girl who’d been introduced as Wal-Mart. She’d left her baby on my porch the previous evening and tracked me down at noon, probably to make sure that the situation was under control. I couldn’t remember anything she’d said that might help me find her.
Luanne and I were packing up the remains of our lunch when the security officer came puffing up the incline.
“You gotta go,” he announced.
“And we will, when we’re ready,” I said sweetly.
“You gotta go right now. You’re trespassing on private property.”
Miss Parchester’s face appeared. “Now, Howie, these are my guests. It’s rude of you to speak to them that way. I hope you remember that conversation we had several years ago after you accused Dibbins of stealing your jar of rubber cement. Where was it, Howie?”
He turned red. “In the supply cabinet, Miss Parchester.”
“And what did I advise you to do?”
“Apologize. But this is different. These ladies are trespassing. Mr. Armstrong said I should call the police if anyone refuses to leave. He’s gonna have somebody put up signs this afternoon.”
“Is he worried that we’re going to dig up the tree and transport it to a safe haven?” I inquired. “Arboretum Anonymous?”
“Or perhaps,” Luanne added tartly, “he’s now so concerned about the environment that he’s afraid visitors will leave litter. He may intend to donate the land to the city for a quaint little park. A few picnic tables and barbecue pits will really lend charm.”
Howie was still red, but he held his ground. “All I know is that nobody’s allowed to come any closer than the edge of the parking lot.”
“What if Miss Parchester needs food, water, or even medication?” I asked.
“I’m just following orders,” he mumbled. “Otherwise, I’ll get fired.”
“Howie, Howie, Howie,” Miss Parchester said with a discouraged sigh. “I doubt you will ever amount to anything with that attitude. Most of the atrocities against humanity were committed by those who claimed to be following orders.” She looked at me. “I have everything I need, and I have mastered the cell phone. Your little Mend appears to be stirring. You run along.
“Miss Parchester!” I called as the three of us approached the oak. “It’s Claire. I’ve brought Luanne Bradshaw and a wee visitor. May we offer you a chicken salad sandwich and iced tea for lunch?”
Her face appeared. “What a lovely surprise, Claire. I regret to say there’s insufficient room for all of you up here, and of course I couldn’t come down even if I wished. Is that an infant?”
“Yes, a cousin and all that sort of thing. Very complicated. If you drop the ladder, I’ll bring up your lunch.”
“That won’t be necessary,” she said as a basket attached to a length of twine nearly hit my head. My shoulder was less fortunate, but I’d survive. “Miss Peterson thought it might be expedient to utilize this if I needed something not too heavy, such as batteries or a newspaper. She’s the chairperson of the hospital auxiliary and quite astute in foreseeing problems.”
The sandwich and cup were dutifully sent up. I set Skyler’s basket in the shade, then Luanne and I made ourselves as comfortable as we could on the rocky ground.
“Have you heard what took place at the press conference?” I called, craning my neck to stare at the bottom of the platform.
“No,” she answered, “but I would be surprised if Mr. Armstrong said anything he hasn’t already said at countless planning commission meetings. They brought to mind all the mindless faculty meetings after school, in which each person felt obligated to repeat whatever point had already been made. I used to sit in the back and crochet doilies. Do you crochet?”
“I do,” Luanne said. “Soothing, isn’t it?”
While they chatted about various patterns and thread weights, I thought about the girl who’d been introduced as Wal-Mart. She’d left her baby on my porch the previous evening and tracked me down at noon, probably to make sure that the situation was under control. I couldn’t remember anything she’d said that might help me find her.
Luanne and I were packing up the remains of our lunch when the security officer came puffing up the incline.
“You gotta go,” he announced.
“And we will, when we’re ready,” I said sweetly.
“You gotta go right now. You’re trespassing on private property.”
Miss Parchester’s face appeared. “Now, Howie, these are my guests. It’s rude of you to speak to them that way. I hope you remember that conversation we had several years ago after you accused Dibbins of stealing your jar of rubber cement. Where was it, Howie?”
He turned red. “In the supply cabinet, Miss Parchester.”
“And what did I advise you to do?”
“Apologize. But this is different. These ladies are trespassing. Mr. Armstrong said I should call the police if anyone refuses to leave. He’s gonna have somebody put up signs this afternoon.”
“Is he worried that we’re going to dig up the tree and transport it to a safe haven?” I inquired. “Arboretum Anonymous?”
“Or perhaps,” Luanne added tartly, “he’s now so concerned about the environment that he’s afraid visitors will leave litter. He may intend to donate the land to the city for a quaint little park. A few picnic tables and barbecue pits will really lend charm.”
Howie was still red, but he held his ground. “All I know is that nobody’s allowed to come any closer than the edge of the parking lot.”
“What if Miss Parchester needs food, water, or even medication?” I asked.
“I’m just following orders,” he mumbled. “Otherwise, I’ll get fired.”
“Howie, Howie, Howie,” Miss Parchester said with a discouraged sigh. “I doubt you will ever amount to anything with that attitude. Most of the atrocities against humanity were committed by those who claimed to be following orders.” She looked at me. “I have everything I need, and I have mastered the cell phone. Your little Mend appears to be stirring. You run along.
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